They Were All In Love With Dyin
by Jezebella Corvus
Summary: A group of inner-city survivors, led by two nuns comes into the world of Daryl Dixon and company. Except, he never thought he'd be looking at a /nun/ quite this way. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. O/C female character,mature themes.
1. Chapter 1

_They were all in love with dyin'  
They were drinking from a fountain  
That was pouring like an avalanche  
Coming down the mountain_

_(Pepper- the Butthole Surfers)_

With a low creak, the van rocked, not enough to go anywhere- but enough to make everyone inside of it tense up. They were pressed close together; there was only so much room even in a big van like this one. From the range of ages and faces, it was evident they were a mixed group of survivors- but they all had the same look in their eyes. Hollowed, burning with dread- like they were scarred from the inside out. Towards the front of the vehicle, crouched down between the two seats, a young woman was huddled, her eyes the only thing on her that moved. She listened, like a deer before bolting- only there were few places to go in this current predicament. Had to stay put and pray silently, try not to think about how bad it could get.

Siobhan did a lot of that. Putting off the trauma of the moment for later, like an IOU to her psyche. All those things she never wanted to see again. If only it was as simple as dismissing a memory and having it evaporate. There were no doors made heavy and thick enough to hold all of the bad things back forever.

She felt determination cut into her fear. If they had attracted unwanted attention, be it dead or alive- she was going to lead the threat away. That was the only comfort she grasped in the moment. The knife in her hand was going to get wet again, be the blood black or red. There was no way she was letting anything happen to the others while she was alive and breathing.

A soft huff of breath made her free hand slide over the tiny mutt beside her leg. Diablo was a mixed breed for sure. Some kind of terrier stirred in with equal parts gargoyle and mean old geezer. He wasn't much to look at, but in his head he was a beast. He was Siobhan's, since he'd decided that during their time as fellow survivors. She steadied the dog with her touch, but her mind was on the tiny sounds coming from the back of the van. A breath here, a shifting of weight as limbs tingled or cramped. The other occupants couldn't help it. She knew that. They were human. Alive. It wasn't their fault every little noise made her want to scream at them to be fucking still.

A sudden thud to the passenger side door made her body tighten like a drawn bow. She willed herself not to move more than she had to. When a hand flatly hit the glass to her right, her eyes slid that way, feeling the little dog under her quelling hand trembling.

But it wasn't a zombie staring back at her. It was a young Asian man with pallid features and a bloody shoulder. He pressed his fingers to the glass, a pleading look in his exhausted face. There was nothing she could do, Siobhan told herself. They were already full. So many lives to worry about. He would have to find some other place. Even as she was thinking the sentiment, she reached over, as quietly as possible, unlocking the side door and opening it for him.

The stranger slid into the seat and shut the door in total silence as if he had rehearsed the move many times over. Then he too slid down into the floorboards. Out of sight for the most part from anything beyond the vehicle.

"Were you bit?" Siobhan asked close to his ear, and when he shook his head, she nodded. It didn't look messy enough to be a bite. She just had to be sure. Taking a towel that was handed up to her by one of her fellow survivors; she pressed the cloth to his shoulder.

"Glenn." The young man said in a hiss, not that she'd asked his name but it seemed the thing to say. "I was shot."

Her brow furrowed as she inspected his shoulder. "My name's Siobhan."

It sounded to his ears like 'Shove On'. He could not see her well, her clothing was dark, a hood obscuring her face for the most part- but she was being nicer than he had expected from a stranger. "The bullet went clean through. Good news." She gave him a wan smile, but her eyes were serious. "Is someone is after you? Someone we need to worry about?"

"They wanted what I was carrying. I dropped it. Not on purpose. I think they'll be happy just mugging me."

His tone made her realize he was feeling bad for losing whatever he had been toting around. Supplies were gold these days. She understood that much. Hard to get and hold onto with other scavengers around. A bottle of water was handed up and a few ibuprofen. Siobhan gave Glenn a sympathetic look as she handed him the water and tablets.

"We don't have anything stronger. I'm sorry. Where were you headed?"

"No, it's good. Thanks."

He took the tablets and washed them down with a gulp of water. "I am going towards 85. Back... that way." Glenn nodded towards where there used to be an off ramp teeming with traffic. Now it was overrun by stalled cars, rotted bodies and fat crows.

"Are you alone?" A soft voice inquired from the darkness of the van. It was an old woman's voice, resonating with a soothing tone. "Is anyone going to look for you, Glenn? You have people, child?"

Glenn's dark eyes looked to Siobhan's hazels before he nodded to the woman in the back. "Eventually. I'm not expected back for a few more hours. After that, yeah. They'll worry."

"You were alone?" Siobhan asked, brows drawn together. Roaming the city on your own was a very bad idea.

"No. Now, I am. But I wasn't." He looked down, mournful. "Had a kid named Terry with me. He slipped. Walker snagged him on the stairs." Glenn passed a shaking hand over his face. "Was fifteen. Fifteen."

He had a thought of telling Terry's mom, Sue, her son wasn't coming back- and it felt like lead in his gut.

Moving closer to Glenn, a tiny dog snuffled his hand. He was only now noticing the animal. The licks from the ratty looking thing were obviously meant to comfort him. He pet the little animal, words not coming to the fore right now. He kept seeing the boy he had lost. Just that fast. Terry had screamed so loud it seemed to still echo in Glenn's ears.

Siobhan leaned her temple to the seat's side, letting Diablo do his work for Glenn. The terrier mix was ugly and moody, but he grew on you. She had found him running inside an apartment building, and since she had been running her damned self at the time- she followed him. Diablo had led her out and away from the oncoming dead tenants. He didn't have anyone, no other place to be. They fell in together. Diablo had started looking at her like he knew good and well she had beef jerky in her backpack. She had fed him and in return, he let her be his new human. They had been fast friends since then. He was good at scouting out a place, coming back to let her know the odds of getting in and out. Whatever his name had been before the world went to hell, he was Diablo now. He even answered to it.

She wanted to offer Glenn some kind of comfort herself, but there really wasn't much to say. Not when death came so fast your brain and heart were backlogged from never even acknowledging the first atrocity. Let the bad things pile up and they became a monster inside of you. She knew enough about that. Siobhan did not even know him well enough to guess at how to make him feel any better, so she let it lie. No freelance psychology tonight.

"Try to get some sleep. "

That was as close as she could get to being personal with him. It was a meager offering, she felt, but sleep was not always easy to come by.

Once silence had settled over the van again, Siobhan felt Diablo crawl onto her lap, his head burrowing under her hoodie as he decided to rest too. She relaxed a little, but never slept, wanting to be ready if anything else came knocking that night.

The sunrise had Siobhan quietly waking Glenn, and then she crawled into the back of the van to do the same for the others- aside from a young man that had helped watched over the kids as they slept.

Glenn was able to get his first real look at the people he had fallen in with, and his eyes widened as he saw that the old woman he had spoken to the night before- was a nun. A real nun, black and white habit and all. He tried not to stare as she winked at him, her face like a dried apple with merry bright eyes. The other survivors ranged in skin color and age, but all seemed to be no older than twenty. The youngest in the group were a little boy that could be around Carl's age and a girl that was maybe five years old tops. Altogether, there were sixteen people in the back of the van. It was incredible. The van was a church van, made for carrying congregation members to and from services- so it had some room to it. What was incredible was how they had managed to get this far and have so many healthy survivors. Glenn tried to keep positive but there were days he felt like his toes were dangling over the edge of forever. Seeing this little group, and thinking of his own group, it gave him a little faith. There had to be more. Small pockets of people scraping by. He looked at Siobhan as she leaned over to give a bottle of water to the youngest kid, seeing more of her for the first time. She was early twenties, he would guess. Very fit. Bi-racial.. Had to be with her café-au-lait skin and green eyes. She was an attractive young woman, despite the fine white scars here and there on her face and arms. How did she come by those old scars? Who was taking the time to cut her up? Another ice-breaker he couldn't use. It was too invasive.

Glenn cleared his throat, asking, "Where are you guys headed?"

The elderly woman looked at him as if weighing out the worth of sharing information with a stranger. She nodded, replying. "We always move onward. Never stay too long in any one place. We had to come here for supplies, but we have what we need. We can take you to your home, I believe. We have the gasoline."

Siobhan eyed Sister Sarah before interjecting. "We don't know how far he's headed, Sister."

"True, Sister." The older woman responded. "But God led him here, and we are His servants. Glenn needs our aid. It is the right thing to do."

A handsome Hispanic youth, Julio, shook his head. "Zombies led him here. Zombies and –" Forestalling a swear word, he supplied instead, "Thieves."

Sister Sarah smiled, resting her back to the wall of the van as they all spoke in soft tones. "I am sure if you look in your hearts, you will see the right path. I leave it to you, Sister Siobhan. I trust you will do what God would intend."

Glenn looked back and forth between the women, not sure what was going down. Siobhan was a nun too? Did that make the kids orphans? He mentally chided himself, since there was no shortage of orphans and widows in the world. Not now. He moved slowly, his wounded shoulder throbbing in reprimand.

"My car's not far. I can get to it."

"Smellin like a buffet?" Julio asked, snorting softly. "The Zs would be on you, man. They'd sniff you out. Game over."

Rubbing the tip of her chin, Siobhan was inwardly caving. She did not much like the idea of coming too close to other survivors. It had proved a dangerous situation more than once. But Julio was right. The way Glenn was hurt, the blood on his clothes? No. It would be ruthless to just send him on his way and not look back. He was already empty-handed and down one man. Why that was her problem she couldn't say, but Sister Sarah had to rubbing off on her. Making her overthink things.

Siobhan moved to the front seat, getting behind the wheel. Diablo jumped up into her lap. Starting up the van, she turned on the radio in the floorboard, not speaking as she pulled the van out of the alley, into the street. There were a few infected around the area, but nothing major. The van had been quiet, windows blacked out. Not terribly interesting to the zombies. Now some turned to look as the church van rumbled past them, hip-hop coming from the interior like a reassuring heartbeat. Glenn smiled tiredly at the music in the air, even gun-shot, he felt better hearing music he had grown up with.

Letting the van pick up speed, Siobhan finally spoke.

"We'll get you there….to your ride. Then you can get back to your people- but God as my witness-"

"Sister Siobhan."

Sister Sarah softly tried to calm her young charge, but Siobhan wasn't having it, spearing Glenn with a look.

"…if _anything_ happens to _my_ people- you will wish you had let the zombies tear you up like a piñata. Least _they'd _do it fast. I don't know you and I don't trust you. We clear?"

Meeting her eyes, Glenn nodded, his face dead serious. "We're clear."

He waited until the set of her shoulders had eased a little to add, "You're meaner than the chick in the Sound of Music."

Siobhan's lips twitched before she looked steadily ahead. Maria didn't have zombies climbing her hills, did she?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_Why am I fighting to live  
If I'm just living to fight?  
Why am I trying to see...  
If there ain't nothin' in sight?  
Why am I trying to give  
When no one gives me a try?  
Why am I dying to live  
If I'm just living to die?_

_-Jonny Lang, Dying To Live_

When they had some distance between themselves and the city, Siobhan pulled the van over for the morning potty break. Kids could only go so long, and everyone needed a moment to stretch their legs. She was tired as hell, leaning to the side of the van as the heat soaked up through the metal to her back. It felt kinda good after a while. A rifle rested across her arms, and the weight was reassuring. This stop would be brief, but you could never be too sure. She noticed Sister Sarah looking at her, giving the elderly woman her attention.

"Yes?"

Sister Sarah took the van keys from Siobhan's hand.

"You are exhausted. Crawl in the back and sleep. Julio can drive."

Siobhan might have argued, except she was starting to see the dim outline of double vision around everyone and everything. Her fatigued body just wanted to drop. Surely, if Glenn flipped out and tried anything, Julio would kick the shit out of him. She had faith in that. Julio could be reckless and impulsive, but he was also protective. Not slow to react to a threat. So, with what she hoped was a gracious nod, she acquiesced.

"Fine. But only a few hours. "

The younger woman sought out Julio, helping hand out a breakfast of vitamins and Slimfast. They had found cases of the stuff in a drug store and it took the edge off their hunger first thing in the morning, could do for dinner if they couldn't make a stop. It was better than nothing. Drinking her own can of breakfast, Siobhan spoke in a low tone to Julio.

"We are just taking Glenn to his ride, and then he's on his own. Keep a close eye on him. He seems okay but we don't know him. If he sneezes the wrong way, you clock him and give a yell." She narrowed her eyes, thinking that suited for directions on their guest. "Wake me up in a few hours. We need to figure out where we're going next."

Julio gave her a little salute.

"I got you, sister. Relajate! You look worse than the dead ones. Get some sleep."

She patted his shoulder and went back to the van, resisting the urge to threaten Glenn again for good measure. He was an unknown quantity in their midst. It meant he was capable of quite a bit. If anything, the sickness and zombies had shown her a whole other side of fucked up. People nowadays outdid themselves. Trumping the last 'most fucked up thing ever' she had seen. She nestled to the back corner of the van, pulling a blanket over herself. The blanket smelt sleep-warm and sweet from the kids that had shared it. Despite her plans to think about their next stop- she was out as soon as she closed her eyes. Even the others returning to the van didn't wake her. Diablo curled up with her, beady eyes keeping watch as his mistress rested.

Sitting up front with Julio, Glenn watched out the window as they steadily drove past overturned cars and straggling walkers. He hated being inside the cities. It made his skin crawl. You just never knew where someone might be lurking. Dead or alive, they were all dangerous.

"You born around here?"

Julio asked.

"Close enough."

Glenn glanced to the kids in the back of the van, seeing how they were either reading or talking quietly, but all seemed so beat down. He wondered when they had last been able to run around. Glancing back to Julio, he inquired, "You're from New York, right? I can hear it in your accent."

"Yeah. Brookyln. Born and raised. That's most of us, really. Except Neal, Nettie and Thomas. We picked them up along the way. Neal was just outside of Jersey. Found him runnin down the road with some zs after him. Mowed them down with the fan and chopped up the rest. He turned twelve last week. Nettie and Thomas, the carrot-tops, they're brother and sister. Siobhan found them."

The afore mentioned kids looked up towards Glenn, the two little boys seeming shy, but Nettie, the five year old girl, gave him a tiny wave. Her eyes were a striking green under the copper of her curls, but what made her really stand out was the rectangular scar tissue on her exposed calf. The same kind of scar was on her brother's arm. Thomas noticed Glenn looking at his scar and pulled his shirt-sleeve down over it, tucking his arm close to his body. Glenn turned back around, not wanting to make the kids uncomfortable. Siobhan and Sister Sarah had a whole passel of kids to look after even if some of the brood were older teenagers. They were still kids.

"How did you meet the sisters?" Glenn wanted to keep up his end of the conversation here.

"Known Sister Sarah since my moms started goin to the shelter. Every time she tried to leave my dad, she'd head over to the Sacred Heart shelter. Same story for my friends back there. We all grew up in the Sacred Heart. It was a place to sleep before my folks would make up. My dad would drop some lines, win my mom back. Or maybe she just gave up. I don't know. Siobhan…" The youth paused, his eyes meeting Sister Sarah's in the rearview window before he shrugged. "She's just always been around. You get to know people from the neighborhood, especially from church. Sacred Heart was our place to go for safety. We all ended up there when things went to shit, you know?"

Glenn felt he had missed something, but didn't want to press too hard to find out more. Curiosity could make people nervous. He scanned the road ahead.

"The car's up here."

Except, it wasn't. There was no sign of the Mazda he had been driving. The blanket from the backseat was on the ground though, a dead walker lying on it. Brains blown out. Glenn got out of the idling van, looking totally bereft. Someone had stolen the car he had rightfully stolen. Glenn swore, a hand over his face.

Standing next to Glenn, Julio and another of the boys, Deshawn, looked at him with chagrin. Julio looked to his friend, asking, "She said get him to his car. No more than that."

Deshawn nodded, "True story but doesn't mean we can leave him here. No car. He's double screwed without a reach-around." The young black male scanned the road around them, not seeing any hints of movement. No zombies or people. For the moment. "We need to give him a ride. We don't have definite plans anyway, right? We do what's right."

That sounded well and good right now, but only because they were rehearsing what to say to their leader when she woke up. The boys shared a long stare, making the choice. They passed it by Sister Sarah, who agreed it was the right thing to do. Their de facto leader, Sister Siobhan, was going to give them an earful for letting her sleep while they drove Glenn 'home'. Wherever that was.

Glenn's camp wasn't that far from the highway. Not easy to find, but still not so far that Julio had time to really sweat over the distance. He was surprised to be driving up a real drive-way though. Towards a big house set back on a few green acres. People really lived like this? Ever? For the city kid, seeing all this space was a little disconcerting. A high fence was erected around the house, and vehicles in varying states of repair were parked around the property. Just in case. He pulled the van to a stop, looking at their guest.

"Big house."

"We had to clean out the cul-de-sac when we got here, but yeah. It's roomier than the farm we were staying at."

Catching the pain in Glenn's voice, no one asked any more about it. Whatever had happened at the farm was obviously bad news. Julio parked the van, glancing back to see Siobhan still asleep. She had been awake for too long, burnt herself out. It bought them a little time at least. Time to drop off Glenn and be out of here before she could really get pissed. Julio knew her temper was coming from a good place, but there were times he was a little spooked by her. She did some things… too easy.

Like getting Nettie and Thomas back. That was bloody and brutal, but Siobhan had done the deed with a sort of grim fervor that made Julio wonder if it bothered her at all.

He just never asked. Having the kids back and mostly in one piece, had been enough.

Strangers walked out onto the porch of the big house, three men in the front armed. They weren't pointing their guns, but they had them out. Julio knew from the looks on their faces they'd shoot if they had to. No hesitation. He kept his own hands in plain sight.

Glenn hurriedly left the van, reassuring his friends that he was alright. They talked amongst themselves for a moment; no doubt Glenn was telling them why he came back with nothing but the clothes on his back, without the kid he'd taken along.

A dark-haired man walked over to the open passenger side door, looking inside at Glenn's rescuers. The man was tall, lean but muscular. He had steady blue eyes, giving off an air of calm authority. Seeing the group of mostly kids and teens, he gave his head a small shake. The kids had all lost their parents, obviously, but came this far through some miracle.

"My name's Rick. Y'all are welcome to have some water. If you're hungry, food."

Sister Sarah sat forward, a genuine smile on her round face.

"Thank you, Rick. My name is Sister Sarah."

Quietly clambering out of the van, the old woman started to wave the children out as well, putting a finger to her lips to keep them quiet. No sense waking Siobhan just yet. Poor girl needed her rest. Sister Sarah also saw the need to make nice before Siobhan was on her feet again. Sometimes, Siobhan's protective side could come across as volatile. Other times- she _was_ volatile. No amount of love would take away all the ingredients that made Siobhan hard to handle, but Sister Sarah loved her like a daughter.

The other members of Glenn's group came out, seeing the assortment of young people having Gatorade and chips on the front lawn. Deshawn and Julio stayed on point, watching over the smaller kids like hawks. They stayed by the kids while the other two older boys, Ramy who was fifteen and Eric, seventeen, lingered by the van. They made it look casual enough, but they were on guard. Watching their people and their ride.

Two kids from the survivor camp, Carl and Sophia, joined the new kids like excited puppies. They were playing freeze tag when one of the little girls ran into a man walking out of the nearby woods. The man sneered and knocked the girl back like he was swatting a fly.

"HEY!" Julio yelled, "Cabron, watch it! You gotta problem? Want one, motherfucker?"

Pausing, the newcomer- and the man just behind him- paused, looking over the group as he heard some colorful language coming his way.

"When'd we get more spics? Ain't we haven no meetins about this shit?"

Julio picked up the little girl that had ran into the man, holding Jennifer as he glowered at the man.

""Merle." Rick walked over, standing between Julio and the Dixon brothers. "These are our guests. They brought Glenn back. Now calm down. They're just kids."

The elder Dixon brother grunted a laugh. "Runnin a daycare?" He ran his eyes over the teenaged girls in the new company, smiling like a shark. "I don't mind the young trim but the rest of em?" He spat on the ground, close to Julio's boot. "They're probably the reason God set to cleanin the world."

"That is brilliant."

Siobhan had awoken to the sounds of yelling, coming out of the van in a burst of angry speed. Seeing the man leering at 'her' girls and spitting out phlegm and hate? She fisted her hands to keep them from reaching for a weapon. She was carrying a gun at the small of her back, a knife at her hip and one in her boot. But she had the feeling this was one of those moments calling for finesse. She went to put a hand to Julio's shoulder, pushing him behind her, eyes burning in temper. Her voice quivered like a growl when she spoke again.

"You get off pickin fights with kids?"

"Lil girl, give me the time and I'll show you exactly how I get off."

Merle grinned and looked back to his younger brother.

"Look what just dropped in my lap, lil brother. I think she wants a piece."

"I just want to skin this shit and have a beer."

Daryl flicked his eyes over the young woman that stood close to his own height. She was vibrating with her temper. It was a good look for her. She was wearing too much clothing, and not just because he wanted a better look at her. He wondered if she wasn't hot as hell wearing her long sleeves and something around her neck that looked like a mesh scarf. A scarf. In fucking Georgia? He shook his head, shouldering past Merle and the woman. He was hoping his disregard would be enough to get his brother moving. Merle liked an audience. Played up his worse traits to get people going. Riled up. True to form, when Daryl started walking, carrying a handful of carcass, Merle winked to Siobhan and followed after his brother.

Once the Dixons had walked off, Siobhan turned her narrowed eyes to Julio. He shrugged apologetically.

"His ride was gone."

"We will talk later."

Siobhan gave her attention to Rick. She held out her hand, since that was the civilized thing to do. They shook hands as he tried to apologize.

"There's no telling what'll come out of Merle's mouth-"

"Don't sweat it. I've heard worse."

Truthfully, Siobhan had to work at watching her own mouth. It was an uphill battle on a good day. She got a good feel from Rick. Something about him was reassuring. Not in a smarmy way. He wasn't a used car-salesman kinda friendly. He just had to be one of the few, true-blue good people. They did exist.

She saw the kids, her kids, looking to her expectantly. Waiting for her to give the word for everyone to be back in the van, now. She saw Carl and Sophia as well. Hopeful about having other kids to play with for even a few more minutes.

"You're all welcome to stay. To join us. We wouldn't turn you away."

Rick said it softly, seeing the young nun looking over the kids and doing a head count at the same time. She was worried about them, but who wouldn't be. It was a big responsibility having other peoples' lives in your hands. Nothing simple about it.

"Maybe…for the night."

Siobhan heard the smatter of applause from the younger kids and smiled a little. A clap to her shoulder made her look at Rick as he nodded to her like they'd come to an understanding. It was not for more than a night. Just for the kids' sake. She frowned as she walked towards Sister Sarah.

A blonde woman, toting a rifle over her back, was leaning to the post of the front porch, chatting with the elderly nun. Andrea, Siobhan learned from hearing the back and forth, was trying to make nice over the interaction with Merle.

"We've all just learned to overlook a lot when it comes to the Dixons. You can't fault a redneck for not knowing any better. Being racist and narrow-minded. They aren't educated."

When Siobhan gave a slight, scoffing laugh, Andrea looked her way, asking, "What's so funny?"

Despite Sister Sarah's sigh, Andrea was going to get her answer.

"Calling someone else a racist and using those words at the same time. It's funny." Since Andrea looked at her without understanding, her blue eyes bordering on angry, Siobhan shrugged. "What you said, calling them rednecks. It's a slur. It's like saying- 'That _nigger_ over there is a racist.' Get me now?"

"I was just-"

"I know. You weren't educated."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_Swayin to the rhythm of the new world order and  
Count the bodies like sheep to the rhythm of the war drums  
The boogeymen are coming  
The boogeymen are coming  
Keep your head down, go to sleep, to the rhythm of a war drums_

- Pet, Tool

Walking away from the woman wasn't easy. Siobhan never minded a scrap. But it was not the time or place. Especially since she was sure Andrea was putting off alpha bitch vibes. That sort of tangle would be bad. Knowing Andrea had something to prove? It made taking her on more personal. A pride thing. Siobhan did not need to hear Sister Sarah say so. She _knew_ so. Instead of letting it boil over, Siobhan chose to ask for a tour of the place instead. She wanted to know where they were staying, every detail available. That would distract her and be useful at the same time. Since Glenn was off talking to Sue and Hershel, Rick's wife Lori offered to show Siobhan around. The two women walked together, making idle chit-chat about the big house and property.

"We have patrols going out, walking the grounds. We don't all sleep at the same time."

Lori was curious about the young woman but trying to recall her manners. She had never met a nun before in her life. She was wondering why Siobhan didn't even wear a cross. Wasn't that part of the uniform? Getting caught staring, the older woman cleared her throat and looked ahead.

"Was it hard, getting out of New York?"

Siobhan nodded, rubbing her thumb over her lower lip.

"It wasn't easy- but we got the hang of it. Just a matter of learning all new rules, in a way."

"Aren't you hot in all that? I have some short sleeved shirts-"

"Ah…no. I mean, it's a…modesty issue. Not showing too much skin." The cocoa-skinned girl smiled tightly. "Don't worry about me. I'm comfortable."

"Okay, but if you change your mind…?"

"Thanks. I appreciate it. Is there any place to take a bath around here?"

"There's a man-made pond in the woods. A bathtub in the house, if you want to boil the water and haul it up. I do it for the kids twice a week. The rest of the time, I catch Carl when I can and wash his face and hands."

"If we can use the tub for the smaller kids, I'd appreciate it. I'd drag up the water myself. We won't make a mess."

Lori nodded, resting a hand briefly to the woman's arm. "I'm sure you won't, but if the kids do make a mess? That's what kids do. Don't you worry none."

"Thanks." Siobhan smiled more easily. "We do appreciate it. Everything. I know it's not easy trusting strangers."

"No , but sometimes you just get a good feel from someone." Lori sighed softly. "And it does my heart good seein Carl and Sophia excited. Not much to make them happy any more. When they get to play and run around, it's a good thing."

The sun was going down, making the clouds bleed with colors that were almost too beautiful to look at. No matter who you were, Daryl mused, you still all got the same sunset. He squinted upwards, watching that amazing electric red-orange that was just there for a moment before it became this deep bruise violet color. He heard little footsteps behind him and ignore the kid, hoping he wouldn't have to watch another one. Carl and Sophia could drive you up the wall with how they took it for granted someone'd always be there to pull their fat off the fire. Some days, Daryl wanted to bawl out Lori and Carol for losing track of the kids, but he yelled at the children instead. Trying to drum up some common sense in them.

Since the kid sat down next to him, Daryl paused in rolling his cigarette to look over at the little guy. He didn't remember this one's name, but knew he had a younger sister with the same auburn hair. More than the wild hair though, the scar on the kid's arm caught Daryl's eye. It wasn't like something you'd get playing ball or roughhousing. He noticed the kid was playing with a G.I. Joe, a tiny plastic gun in each of the figure's hands. Deciding to make conversation since he didn't want to smoke in the kid's face, he asked, "The fuck happened to you?"

The boy, Thomas, glanced down to his arm. Against the pale freckled skin, the rectangular scar was like a silent scream of red. He tugged his sleeve back down over the glaring mark. Gnawing at his lower lip, the seven year old whispered, "The bad lady did it."

Should mind his own business, Daryl told himself, but there was an ache in the kid's words that made his hands itch to do some damage. Like it could make up for what had happened. Take back the pain long gone. The rough man picked up his knife, sharpening it on a whet stone.

"Did you do her in?"

Startled by the question, but emboldened, Thomas whispered. "Not me. Sister Siobhan did. The bad lady, she had me and Nettie. In a closet." He wiped the back of his hand across his nose to stop the itch there. He never talked about the woman from his nightmares, but he looked Daryl's way and it was a little like telling another boy. A stranger that wouldn't think he was a baby for being scared of someone really dead. All the way dead.

"In a closet? What the hell for?" Daryl was all but whispering himself. This was a tangle he couldn't work out in his own head, but he wanted to know. Somebody'd taken the time to cut the kid. Not even just a threatening cut. It was worse than that. Deep as a brand.

The child bowed his head, looking down at his toy, answering, "She said she'd be our new mom. So we went home with her, but she already had a kid. He was …sick." Thomas grimaced, a shudder going through his frame. "We were sposed to make him feel better. His mama wanted him to be all better. Siobhan heard Nettie screamin'. She came in the door and killed the little dead boy." Thomas met Daryl's eyes, his own glinting. "Then she killed the mom. For making us be food."

Daryl's lip curled back and he had to shove down the disgusted anger he felt. What the fuck was wrong with people? What, the world went to shit and everyone let their freak flags fly? Being all the crazy they could be? He mastered his expression and reached over, hand resting over Thomas' covered forearm.

"Don't have to hide that mark. It means you're a lil bad ass. You lived through some heavy shit. Have the scar to prove it. You had to hurt to get that- it's yours now. Forever. You ever see a rattle snake? Naw? Every year they live, they get another ring on their tail. One more piece of proof that no one's put em down yet. Scars are like that. For us. It doesn't mean you were hurt- it means you _fuckin lived."_

Thomas pulled his sleeve back up, looking at his scar like he was just now seeing it. Tracing the five inch long scar, he smiled a little.

"Nettie too?"

"Yeah, her too."

"Thomas."

The door creaked open, Siobhan leaning there as she looked over the little boy and the man beside him.

"It's your turn in the bath, little man. Water's not too hot. Let's hustle."

Thomas got to his feet and paused to look at Daryl before he patted the bullet scar on the man's temple, whispering, "You lived too." Then he bolted inside, man business seen too.

Watching Thomas dash up the stairs, Siobhan turned her eyes back to Daryl, surprised to see how he was looking right back at her. He had been so introverted during dinner that she had suspected he was counting the seconds until she and her people were long gone. Now, he was just looking. Not with malice or disdain. She wasn't sure what to do with it. She started to just leave him in peace when he spoke.

"You can't keep up your winnin streak."

It was like ice water hitting her full in the face. She narrowed her eyes on him.

"Yeah? Is that supposed to mean something? Like you know."

"I know plenty. Skin of your teeth only goes so far. You got the older boys, they'd be decent if you weren't all carryin dead weight. Old lady. Kids."

Her hand closed tight around the handle of the screen door.

"The zombies are dead-weight. Not the living."

"Jesus tell you that?" Daryl questioned, voice a rasp. "Sister Sarah said y'all are married to Jesus. Brides of Christ. That's got to be some harsh pillow talk goin down right now. You ask your husband what this shit's all about?"

She was sure she should walk away. Let him sit out on the porch, smoke and be a prick all by himself. She never was good at putting her back to someone pissing her off. Worse than that, she was noticing that, attitude and all, he was easy on the eyes. Muscle and promise. His general gruffness would have amused her in another life. Siobhan focused on the fact that he was poking her like he wanted a fight. She smiled coolly.

"This how you work off your tension? Want to fight it out?"

"Naw, when I need to get rid of my tension, I only make you fight as much as you want to. The rest of the time, I do my best to make sure we're both havin a good time. Only fair."

He had the pleasure of seeing a blush form on her neck and cheeks. So she wasn't frozen all the way through. There was a woman in there too. She was a woman, he was a man- and she wasn't dead to that fact. Smoking his cigarette, he kept her stare, getting to his feet. He wanted to be eye to eye for her. In case she decided to try and kick his teeth in. The thought that she might swing on him just made him a little heavier and thicker in his jeans. He did like a hunt, whether he killed his quarry or not.

"What say, sister, you want to relax too? It can work wonders."

Since he was only baiting her and being an ass about it, Siobhan rallied her defenses.

"I'm not interested. "

"Liar."

The single word rolled from his lips and seemed to slink over her skin, making her think she did need to be more covered up. Like wearing a coat on top of the long sleeved shirt she wore. Her body was just being stupid, trying to drag her along. No. She was not going to let some random guy shake her. This was all just a game to him. A challenge.

"I could pray for you."

Daryl laughed at the words, swearing she almost did too. Her offer to pray for him was just that crazy. He didn't need anyone talking to God on his behalf. They'd already had words, him and the Almighty. Enough had been said that there was no way God was doubting how Daryl Dixon felt about Him.

Sister Sarah appeared in the doorway just behind Siobhan, looking like a penguin on a mission to Daryl. He nodded to her, as if he hadn't been sexually propositioning Siobhan. The elderly woman bestowed a serene smile on the man, resting a hand to Siobhan's arm.

"Mr. Dixon, I am sure Sister Siobhan did not take holy vows and pledge herself to God just to squander her life's work on a tussle in the woods. You understand we all have sacrifices to make, and promises to keep. I am sure with your own many obligations you see the need for we two to remain steadfast to our own path."

Noticing how hotly Siobhan was blushing now, Daryl felt like a boy with his hand hovering just over the cookie jar. Not dipping in. Not yet, anyway. It seemed the cookie jar wasn't too tightly lidded either. It was a maybe. There was… potential.

He smiled to Sister Sarah and got to his feet.

"Was just talkin. I'll let you get back to bein…holy."

He walked off the porch, the cherry tip of a new cigarette sparking to life in the dark as he strolled away.

Siobhan gave Sister Sarah a look before she muttered, "I want a bath."

Sister Sarah chuckled. "Cleanliness_ is_ next to godliness." She could not keep herself from smiling at Siobhan's uneasy grimace. The young woman was adept at many things, but other times, very much still learning. Sister Sarah rested a hand to Siobhan's arm. " I will keep watch at the door while you take your bath. Take your time. The children are finished. "

Thinking about using the water Thomas had just used, Siobhan made a face. It was not the worst setting, but she wanted to feel really clean after wards. She needed a good, long bath. A soak. Thinking of the pond, she said, "There's a pond in the woods."

"You think that's wise?"

Reading extra concerns into the question, Siobhan growled under her breath before turning and heading upstairs to use the water in the tub. Hiding out from anyone was not her natural way. Being discreet and not making waves just made her feel like a cat being petted backwards. Still, if it kept the tenuous peace and made Sister Sarah happy, Siobhan could make small concessions. She heard Sister Sarah sit down outside the bathroom door, a presence to guarantee her charge's privacy. Likely to ensure Siobhan wouldn't just go find the pond after all. The thought made Siobhan smile. Sister Sarah knew her a little too well. Knew how deep a rebellious streak could run.

Siobhan stripped down, eyes never going to the mirror. She seldom looked in mirrors. She was aware of how she looked, and any more, it wasn't getting much better. A shaky diet and bad sleeping habits along with her scars? Not exactly pretty to her own eyes. Turning to the tub, she was glad to see the water wasn't as murky as she'd expected. It was chilly, but not dirty. She bathed in a hurried, proficient manner, not lingering as she scrubbed at her hair and skin.

Saying she wasn't thinking about Daryl's evil laugh would be a lie. She should stay away from him. Definitely not talk to him again. Who did he think he was any way? All that stuff he had been saying like he had to piss her off or he couldn't call it a day. She tried to shake it off, but even after her bath and re-dressing, she was restless. Drying off, she was still frowning as she told him off in her head. All of her best comebacks came to her long after the fact. In the heat of the moment, she was more comfortable punching someone in the mouth to show her feelings. Hence the scars crisscrossing her knuckles from teeth that begged to be slugged. She re-dressed in another long sleeve shirt, something borrowed. It was a dark green plaid that she liked the look of. Jeans that fit once she used her belt. Feeling better, she opened the bathroom door to look at Sister Sarah.

Whispering close to the older nun's ear, Siobhan said. "I wasn't comfortable before…I'm still not."

"It's for the greater good, Siobhan. Trust me. It is for the best. It keeps us safe. The children need us."

Sarah hugged Siobhan, feeling the girl hug her back. There was a time Siobhan would have been wooden in her arms, tolerating the embrace but not knowing how to reciprocate it. Or if she should. Siobhan had come a very long way.

"I don't like-"

"I know, child, but it is only for a little while longer. Once we find a safe place, things can be different."

Biting at her full lower lip, Siobhan nodded stiffly. "I need to go for a run."

"Siobhan-"

"I need to, Sister. I have to work off some energy. It's not going to go anywhere otherwise and I won't get any sleep. It's dark out. Let me be me… for just a while. I won't go too far or take too long. Keep Diablo with you. He can't keep up with me."

There was no further argument from Sister Sarah as she watched Siobhan pull on her boots and take her knife and handgun up like they were part of herself. The old woman had to wonder, not for the first time, if her prayers were being heard or she was simply too tired to give up praying now.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"_And the sky was made of amethyst_

_And all the stars look just like little fish_

_You should learn when to go_

_You should learn how to say "no"_

_Go on, take everything_

_Take everything_

_I want you to_

_Go on, take everything_

_Take everything_

_Take everything I want you to_

_And the sky was all violet_

_I want it again, but violent, more violence_

_Well, I'm the one with no soul_

_One above and one below"_

-Violet, Hole

Hitting her stride, Siobhan felt like maybe she would be able to sleep tonight after all. Every time her feet hit the earth, the strain and release of muscles and tendons, she felt better. The endorphins were a natural high, but it was also part of her routine. Ritual. Testing herself and pushing the boundaries of her body. She needed to be ready for whatever came next, and part of that meant being physically strong. She was lean and lithely muscled, not bulky. Being athletic was not new to her. She had maintained a fit form before the city of New York became overrun. It was part of her, to be strong and able to take care of herself. She knew how to hold her own. The surprise was how much she cared about Sister Sarah and the kids. She would give her life for them. Killing was one thing. Living for other people? Complicated.

Doing her best for Sister Sarah and the kids, that was part of her now.

What was not part of her?

Lying.

She had never been a liar, not even for the sake of getting by. Now, she was doing it on a daily basis and keeping the ball rolling. There was no running away from that. In her life before the dead refused to stay dead after one go-round, she had thought she had things figured out. There was right and wrong. There were people that lived between the extremes, staying grey. Then there were those that stepped outside of the bounds and got away with it. To a point. Karma still caught up with even the slickest and slyest. It would amuse the hell out of her friends if they knew she was passing herself off as a nun.

A nun. Seriously.

It was one thing for her to develop a friendship with Sister Sarah. She had gone to the Sacred Heart as a teenager when she was attacked by her mother's boyfriend, showing up at the shelter with her face looking like a bad watercolor painting done in purple, green and black. Sister Sarah had taken her in, convinced her that taking a tire iron to Leon was not the right way to handle the situation. The thirteen year old Siobhan had felt a strange kinship to the nun. Sister Sarah had a wicked sense of humor and seemed to have a real handle on life. Sarah was not merely strong, she was strong _for others_.

That impressed the girl to no end. It was like having a big bank account, except instead of coin it was strength. Enough for yourself with extra to spare for those in need. Siobhan decided then and there she was going to be strong.

Sister Sarah did her best to mentor and tutor Siobhan, but the girl had her own ideas about what it meant to become powerful.

With her face, Siobhan was drawing unwanted attention before she knew what to do with it. It made her feel helpless to have a face that gave men ideas. Had them looking at her like they had plans. Why she felt guilty over perverts was a mystery to the grown woman she was now, but there was no going back. She made them look. Gave them ideas. Those were words her mother had whispered to her as a comfort, some insider information. If you wanted to keep a low profile, be safe? Better to be plain. Quiet. Those base lessons did not go far with Siobhan. She was born with a pretty face and later a body that developed into womanhood. Her mother's instructions only laid the foundation for blame and self-loathing. Siobhan never felt safe in her own skin.

That kernel of distrust and vulnerability came to the fore when one of her mother's 'friends' decided to rape and assault her. She was raped on the threadbare floor of the apartment she shared with her mother, feeling like she was cut loose from herself. As if the rape was happening to a girl she was looking down on, wishing she could help that stranger, but she was helpless. The man had bitten her, slapped and punches landing to subdue her. Siobhan still recalled, all too vividly, the bite to her left shoulder blade that had left a round, raised scar. Her body was being driven into, torn open- while her eyes locked to the television screen, staring at the synthetic smiles of Regis and Kathy Lee. Wondering how their world and her world were both real. Simultaneously.

She never told her mother about the attack. Much of her pain turned inward, seeking a place to hide in the dark. She tried her damnedest to put distance between herself and that feeling of utter helplessness. She told herself she would never let it happen again, as if she had brought it down upon herself the first time. Siobhan had to become adept at not being home or alone with a man. The high level of fear and paranoia were taxing. Praying didn't help. No angels appeared to shove the bad men away. Fed up with being backed into corners again and again, Siobhan decided to seek out more than spiritual strength or calming wisdom. Sister Sarah meant well, the young girl believed, but not everyone lived by the nun's rules. Siobhan needed some kind of control. She wanted to be the fighter on the outside that she was on the inside. Give her true soul a home to be proud of.

For better or worse, she took up fighting. Not in the sense of just boxing or taking martial arts. No, Siobhan went headlong into controlled savagery. No holds barred fights hosted by people with money that wanted to see blood. Nothing fake about it. Blood and bruises were very real. There was money and raw potential to be found in underground fights. Bets were placed, fighters egged on, conditioned, shoved into a ring of barbed wire and concrete. Weapons were optional, in the form of knives or whatever you could get your hands on, be it broken glass or a brick. Fatalities were frowned upon, expensive- but they had happened if the handlers did not intercede in time. Death was a rarity, however. No one wanted to lose a prize fighter. Climbing the ranks of contenders was a way to remake herself, acclimating to pain. No, more than that- living in pain and becoming part of it. A disciple and benefactress.

It became her outlet, a way to toughen up her physical self and sometimes bury her emotions altogether. She was known for being stone-faced in the ring, able to take a lot of damage. Keep going even if it would be wise to stay down. The art of meeting an attack head on appealed to her in ways she could not express. Siobhan felt a puzzle piece slide in deep, locked as if just right when she was in the ring. She truly had been happiest under blaring fireballs of fluorescent lights that beat down over herself and her opponent. Male or female, she was glad to see them. They gave her the chance to show them she was not weak. Fighting was another way to prove _it_. Prove again and again she was no one's toy or meat. Never again.

Sister Sarah never approved of the fights. She had never witnessed a single match Siobhan had been in, horrified that Siobhan had become affiliated with Carlos Cruz. Carlos Cruz was the man behind the fights, and he paid for Siobhan's training and conditioning. The young woman paid him back from her winnings, buying into fights and giving him his cut. Cruz ran other illicit enterprises in the city- but Siobhan stayed away from all of that. She never sold herself sexually or took solace in drugs or drink. She was content to fight and bleed when it came to that.

At the Sacred Heart, her new training came to the fore in other ways. When men didn't want to let their wives or children have any peace? Sometimes, Siobhan would pay them a visit. It was like being an enforcer for the shelter. Some nights she had slept at the Heart instead of going home to her apartment, keeping Sister Sarah company. Keeping her safe from a particularly worrisome man that was hellbent on dragging his family home again. Siobhan grimly enjoyed seeing how the men would start to change their minds after she gave them a dose of their own medicine. Never killing them, no- but some well-placed kicks and punches before telling them how much she liked playing with knives? It usually did the trick. Speaking to their own understanding of pain and mortality.

Right or wrong, she felt she was giving some peace amidst the chaos and black pain that life could be. Playing at being an angel stepping into the wake of oncoming evil. She could somehow make that childhood desire see fruition, by taking on someone like her rapist. It didn't erase the past, but sometimes she liked to believe it put more distance between herself and that pain. When it came to doling out street justice? She didn't hate it, and maybe that worried Sister Sarah more than she wanted to admit.

She was not winded when she drew to a halt, knowing she was about two miles from the house now. Siobhan felt more at ease to do her routine exercises without worrying about anyone watching her. It was more than just being in the headspace to tune in to her body. Siobhan did not want to be seen when she was pushing herself, getting to that point where her muscles hurt before drawing back. Her physical discipline was a form of personal religion. Control over herself. Without the use of weights or anyone to spar with, she had to find other methods of exercise. It was akin to boot-camp drills as she dropped into doing one armed push-ups, her left arm crossed behind her back. Then she switched arms, doing reps of twenty. After the push-ups, she went into lunges and squats, raising sweat over her skin. She slowed down her reps, drawing out her movements until she had to give in. She incorporated yoga into her stretches, feeling more complete, at peace once she had worked out. If the body was a machine, meant and set for a purpose- she intended to have a fine piece of machinery to work with. The scars on her face, neck and arms made her aware of her mortality, the need to get better, faster and more ruthless. Bit by bit, she had become honed for a fight. It did pay off now, when a moment of hesitation could mean death or a living death.

She was finished with her routine, thinking about heading back when she decided she needed another bath. A quick swim wouldn't hurt anything, right? A chance to be under the moonlight, alone? It sounded like heaven. She set out to find the pond, recalling Lori vaguely pointing it out to her earlier that day. When she finally found the perfectly round pool, Siobhan felt accomplished. It would have been embarrassing to get lost in the woods on her first night at the house. She looked around to make sure the coast was clear before she stripped down to the tshirt she wore under the plaid shirt, and panties. It wasn't perfect, but it would serve.

The water was even better than it looked. She dove under the surface, swimming and feeling lighter than air as her body cut through the water. The feel of the chilly water was pure bliss. She came up for air, pulling the heavy weight of her hair from her eyes. Blinking her lashes free of blurring water droplets, she saw a shadow hulking down next to her clothing on the shoreline. Gritting her teeth, she thought at first it was a zombie snuffling at her belongings like a rat in a trash can.

She wasn't sure the alternative was much better. Swimming silently closer, she watched Merle Dixon lift her weapons and then the guard she wore around her neck and arms, a loose mesh like fabric that gleamed dully in the moon-light.

"You like wearing womens' clothing?"

He smiled over to her, dropping her neck-guard with a gruff cough. "Don't you burn alive in all this? What is this?" He twirled the mesh with one hand.

"It's for the bites. To keep them off." Siobhan wondered why they were having a conversation about her gear. She saw his eyes narrow and expounded, "We raided a sporting goods store for the mesh. It's for divers. Shark-proof. Zombies can't bite through it. Their jaws lose pressure against the material."

"Huh. That's pretty smart for a church girl."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Nope, just tryin to puzzle you out, Sister. If I'd known you were a nun, I wouldna said what I did earlier."

She frowned, trying to see his angle. He sounded bizarrely sincere. His tone was half mocking, making her wonder if he couldn't help sounding like a bastard. Maybe it was just his way. Still concealed up to her neck in the water, she responded.

"Good to know. No harm done. I guess you'll be going now so I can have some privacy."

"Guess I will. You best be careful. Not everyone's gonna care about what you are. Prancin around naked ain't wise."

"I wasn't-" Seeing his smile, she snapped her mouth closed before she could further amuse him.

Merle gave her a little salute, turning to walk away, silent as the fog creeping in over the earth. Siobhan waited for a good while longer than she wanted to before leaving the water stealthily. She dressed in record time, shivering as she wondered if Merle was watching her from the darkness. She glanced around her as her hands closed over the weapons she was used to carrying like they were part of her.

Siobhan walked back to the house, not hearing anyone in her wake. When she reached the edge of the home's property, she saw Merle sitting there by the stone wall, having a smoke with Daryl. The two of them barely acknowledged her with a look, going back to their low conversation about 'pansy assed motherfuckers'. Siobhan glanced back before stepping onto the porch, her eyes going to Daryl's profile. He had something about him. There were no words for it, because she'd never had to deal with it before. Confused, she went inside, telling herself it was going to be alright. She was taking Sister Sarah and the kids, leaving tomorrow. Whatever it was about Daryl- it would be miles behind her very soon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

'_She does rain-dances when she's feeling dry_

_North train track woman got her arms in the sky_

_And she's moving to Arlington as soon as she can_

_She got blood in her eye, stones in her sky and she walks like a man_

_Arlington girl Arlington girl_

_She says she does she does all she pleases_

_Dancing on tomb stones_

_Black dirt and old bones_

_Some say she's hangin'_

_Just waiting around_

_For Jesus.'_

Arlington Girl, Shivaree

The still morning air was cool, a breath of winter in the air as an uncommon cold front was moving in. No longer could you get a heads up from a meteorologist. The weather went unchecked and crept up on survivors with more alacrity than the dead. Daryl stood on the front porch, looking out over the frosted ground, remembering how hot it had been yesterday. A shock to the system, sure, but what he was worried about was what he couldn't see. If it was going to get worse, how bad would it be? He rubbed over his jaw, thinking about how they could seal up the windows of the house with some heavy plastic but it'd only go so far. He had a bad feeling about the bite of cold. It felt like a warning.

Hell, he might even have to wear sleeves.

Feeling a nudge to his elbow, he looked down to see the red-headed kid. Thomas. Daryl half- nodded the boy's way.

"The hell you outta bed for? It's early."

Thomas rubbed the heel of his hand over his eyes, yawning as he answered, "It's cold and Sister Sarah and Diablo are snoring so loud. "

"Still, you can't be wanderin off. Best way to turn into some dead bastard's breakfast burrito. Get your ass back inside. Put on some socks. Tell one of them nuns to take care of you."

Grumbling, the little boy went inside, screen door creaking behind him. Daryl shook his head, glad to see Shane coming out to take over.

"Cold as a witch's tit out here."

Daryl agreed with the sentiment but wasn't about to say so to the other man. They tended to rub one another the wrong way on a daily basis. Shane didn't like it when you weren't buyin what he was sellin. Point-blank, Shane believed his own bullshit from saying it so much. Loved the sound of his own voice.

"You'll live."

Going into the house, Daryl saw other people starting to stir to get some blankets or start coffee. He walked into the family room, feeling that disjointed weird sensation that came from realizing over and over again he was in a dead person's home. One of many he had been in. This family room had a dead family somewhere. All the photos had been taken down and stored in the attic by Carol and Lori soon as they decided to stay at the house for however long. It still unsettled Daryl some. He was pretty sure no one was bunking down in the trailer he grew up in and had shared with his old man and Merle. It wasn't near as nice or spacious as this house- but he still missed it sometimes. Least there, he knew every nook and cranny of the place. No surprises. It was theirs. The patched over holes in the walls and second-hand furniture made the trailer look past 'lived in'. Why he thought of that dump, when he was in someplace that didn't leak, was nothing he could explain -but there it was.

A movement by the fireplace caught his attention, making him grab for his knife. He recognized the unkempt curls a moment later and eased off as Siobhan gave him a measuring look. She returned to putting small pieces of kindling to the hearth, her hands trembling from the cold.

"Let me do that."

Daryl didn't ask so much as tell, and then he took the box of matches from her knee. He wasn't expecting her to flinch back. He glared at her for her jerking leg.

"Calm down, Sister Christian. Didn't come over here to mount you."

His growled words made her blush while glaring right back. She gathered her hoodie closer around her, tucking her hands into the long sleeves. Her initial response would have been two words long and not very nun-like at all. Siobhan always had to check and double check all she wanted to say, temper it with consideration. It was annoying at the best of times. She remained quiet as he coaxed the fire to life, having better luck than she had.

"You gotta scrape out the ashes into the pan, clear it out- …" Daryl explained like they were having a civil conversation. He glanced her way and noticed the dirty look she was shooting his way. "What?"

Siobhan rose to her feet in one fluid motion, proud of herself for not kicking him. Mounting. Who even said that?

"Thanks for lighting the fire. I'll go out and bring in some more wood."

"I'll come with."

"You don't have to do that. You were up all night-"

"Wasn't askin. Let's go. I'd like to get some sleep before you need something else from me."

As if she had asked him for a damned thing! Biting the tip of her tongue, she shouldered past him on the way out of the family room. It was nonverbal but spoke volumes. She wasn't sure why he took such pleasure in irritating her and then acted as if he had better things to do than be bothered with his own behavior. Men.

Going outside, she tried to ignore he was even there as she started gathering fallen wood into a pile by the front porch steps. It was colder than she had anticipated, the air seeming to bite right through her jeans. It didn't feel like Georgia. Not the Georgia she'd been experiencing that made her detest having to keep so covered up. There was something about lazy sweat tickling and trickling down your spine to drive home the point of how hot it was. The shift in the weather made Siobhan leery. What if there was some freak storm while they were between shelters? Would the van be warm enough if they had to stop? Would it be safe to stop at all? Who knew how the dead would react to the different temperatures.

"What're you stompin about?"

Daryl purposely brushed his shoulder to hers; leaning in as he added the wood from his arms to the haphazard pile she had started. He noticed how she blushed over the slight contact, the corners of his lips tugging up. It was almost too much fun to get under her skin. He could all but watch her arguing it out with herself to keep up the stony silence when she really wanted to come out swinging. He had been in enough fights to be able to smell one coming- even if Siobhan stomped it right back down. She still wanted to swing at him. He lit up a cigarette, noting how her cat-green eyes ran over the cigarette and his mouth both. Daryl felt a kick in his gut, his mind conjuring up taking her to bed with him. Let her wear him out, keep him good and warm. Tucked into her where it'd do them both some good.

"I was thinking about the cold."

Siobhan didn't meet his glacial blue eyes again. She was getting flustered over nothing. He was needling her, playing at the lines drawn in the sand. Just being a little boy whistling as he kicked a can down the sidewalk. She didn't like being the can in that metaphor either. He made her feel unsettled, and that was stupid. He was not the first man to ever flirt with her or make overt comments about sex. He just happened to be the first one to ever have her thinking the same damned things. She wouldn't even know how to go about it, truthfully. She was used to keeping people at an arms-length. Not to mention she was supposedly off limits. Even Merle seemed to get that. Why did Daryl have to be difficult? She wished she could have his cigarette; even two drags off of it would help ease her nerves.

"It's comin on." Daryl said, nodding a little. "Goin to be worse tomorrow."

"How much worse?"

He picked up on the worry in her voice, knowing she was considering that passel of kids she had to drag around.

"Cold enough you'd do better to stay put for a few days. Let it wear itself out. Better than goin to sleep for good because y'all forget about exposure."

Biting at her inner cheek, Siobhan bowed her head, thinking it over.

"Would Rick go for that? If we asked to stay for a few days?"

"Imagine so. If you pitch in, help do some of the patrols and chores. More mouths to feed means more work. You any good at huntin?"

"Animals? No. I never-"

"But you're good with huntin _people_. Yeah. Thomas told me about that. The psycho bitch you killed for him n his sister. "

Taken aback for a moment, she paused before nodding. "There was no other way. She wasn't going to stop. She was out of her mind, or maybe just twisted. I don't know. It was all so fast." Siobhan watched him lighting another smoke and licked her lips. So jealous. It was a simple torture to want something so close and not have any. To have a cigarette slide between her lips after he had it between his? An ache flickered inside of her, making her blush as she averted her eyes. "She had killed others to feed her son. Or what used to be her son. There was nothing left in him that was a child. I didn't know what I was going to find when I got there- she wasn't big on housekeeping. Bodies were in the house, left overs. It was messed up. I wish Thomas and Nettie hadn't seen all that they did."

He narrowed his eyes on her, listening to the pauses between her words as much as the words themselves. She sounded half like she was defending what she did, as if he'd say it was wrong. Or maybe it wasn't her idea of being a good Christian to hack someone up. Who knew?

"How'd you find them kids to start with? Hear'em screaming or something?"

"No. I was scavenging for food. I saw a group of zom-… of Walkers- and they were booking it uptown. Whenever they get stirred up, it's over meat. Food. All they do is feel hungry, and if they're on the move, it's to feed. So I figured there had to be something they were hearing that I was missing. Something had to be alive, or someone. I couldn't just leave them to it." She leaned her shoulder and hip to the side of the porch, glad to be far away from the darkly twisted streets she had been searching that night. "The dead ones were after the screams coming out of the kids. Nettie was screaming so loud it hurt to hear it. I killed the five Walkers outside the woman's house and then let myself in. I couldn't believe it was real. She was alive. Breathing and whole- holding down Thomas and using this big knife to cut into him. I saw her kid then. On a logging chain wrapped around the stove, holding him back just enough that all he could do was snap and grab for air. It was a blur. I heard her screaming at me not to hurt her baby. I didn't think much. I just tried to be quick. I wasn't sure what else might be coming our way. Once I had Thomas and Nettie, I got them back to the van without too much trouble. They understood they had to be quiet. "Her eyes were haunted from thinking about how the children still carried scars from their brush with that woman.

"You regret killin her or something? Because she wasn't a Walker?"

"Honestly, no. I just think I killed her too fast."

She meant it too, Daryl saw. Siobhan was not just saying the words for shock value. He understood that feeling. There were times he felt he was born in the wrong damned century. Too many rules and laws protecting the worst sort of people long as they had money or knew the right connections. World was fucked from all the corruption. Martial law was definitely the norm nowadays and he sort of liked that change. Evened the playing field more. The whole place had turned into a modern day Wild West, kill or be killed. Despite the drawbacks of having Merle around 24-7, Daryl was glad to have his brother at his back. No playing catch up with Merle Dixon. That bastard always hit the ground running.

"Don't worry, there's more crazy where she came from. You'll get your chance to take out s'more."

Siobhan's smile was quick and bright. "Good point."

She helped take the firewood inside, stacking it beside the fireplace where a crowd was already gathering. Dusting herself off of dirt and wood scraps, Siobhan did a check to make sure all the kids were present and accounted for. Nettie, Gio and Jennifer had all shared a bed with Siobhan, and now they sat huddled together on a nearby sofa. Siobhan checked on the young boy and two girls, getting them set up with a breakfast of dry granola, canned peaches and some warm tea. Finding Rick was easy enough since he was making time to have breakfast with his pregnant wife and little boy. Siobhan was glad Rick kindly allowed her party to stay as long as need be. Taking Daryl's advice, she offered to help with the watch and chores, glad to have some part. Give back since they were hanging around. Rick was more gracious about it than most would have been. Something about the man was just so damned good. Not that she said that, but she thought it, sure enough. After checking on the kids again, she went upstairs to check on Sister Sarah, since the woman had not come down yet.

Sarah sat at the edge of her bed, head bent over her palms as she prayed. Siobhan hesitated in the doorway, not interrupting as Sarah murmured her prayers. Sister Sarah crossed herself, eyes lifting to Siobhan, a smile appearing on her seamed face.

"You have something to say, Sister Siobhan?"

Siobhan entered the room, closing the door behind her and leaning her back to it. "We have to hang out for a few days, til we know what the weather's doing for sure."

"Because of the _cold_, is it?" The older woman bent down, pulling on a heavy pair of boot-socks someone had left at the end of the bed for her. She smiled a little, one eye to Siobhan. "Is that all?"

Raising a brow, Siobhan felt like that single eye of Sister Sarah's had a microscope and interrogation light inside of it. "Yes. Why else?"

Glad the girl could still blush, Sister Sarah laughed softly. "Because of how you were dawdling out there with that young man, Siobhan. Nothing good can come of that."

Dawdling? Siobhan crossed her arms over her chest, feeling her hackles rising. "Gathering firewood isn't a sin, is it? Besides, I'm not the one that bold-faced lied to him the other night."

"I never lied."

"Yes, you did." Siobhan exhaled the words with a sharp laugh.

"No, I said I was sure you _had not_ taken holy vows. You weren't listening close enough."

Sister Sarah looked like she was enjoying this chat way too much for Siobhan's comfort.

"You need to eat breakfast and sit by the fire. It's going to get colder. I'm going to get the kids wearing some layers…I think it'll be alright."

The elderly nun nodded at Siobhan's words, knowing the subject of Daryl apparently did bear some consideration. Siobhan wasn't brushing it off, and that was something.

"I'll be down shortly. I am going to pray."

Siobhan didn't say what she was thinking; knowing if she mentioned the nun had just been praying there'd be some Yoda-like words about there never being too much prayer in the world. She let it go, turning to go back downstairs.

"Siobhan. It really is for the best. Remember all that can go wrong."

Sister Sarah's words had her looking back over her shoulder. She nodded briefly before walking away.

Going out that night to help patrol, Siobhan was tying her boots on when Shane walked over to talk to her. He seemed to like standing over women with his groin near their faces. Siobhan got to her feet, resisting the urge to shove him back. See, she could play nice.

"What's up, Shane?"

"You drew the short straw, newbie." Shane smiled, all teeth and no joy. "You're going out tonight with Merle. You're walking the south side of the property, crossing over my patrol with Daryl and Deshawn. You got all you need?"

She ignored his disparaging comments about Merle. If the man was so god-awful, why have him bringing you food and watching over you while you slept? Siobhan slid the mesh cowl around her neck, pulling her long jacket on.

"I'll be down in just a minute. Let him know I'll meet him by the gate."

She emerged from the house moment later, having had a heart to heart with Diablo about why he was not coming. The small dog trotted out right behind her all the same. She just couldn't handle him crying like that. It made her feel like she was a monster. So he was coming along. She carried a messenger bag just in case she had to stow him in a hurry. It was a compromise. Walking out towards where Merle was waiting, she tossed something at him.

Quick as a snake the man snatched the coiled bundle from the air, the lot of it fitting in his fist. He made a noise of inquiry, shaking out the slick feeling material.

"This soma your shark stuff?"

"Yeah. It's part of a suit I cut up. The legs mostly. You can have it. In case you ever need it."

Her casual tone seemed at odds with the frown on his face.

"Why you givin me this?"

Siobhan half-smiled. "We're walking together, aren't we? It seemed like I might not want you turning into a zombie on my watch. Use it or don't use it, maybe someday you'll need it. There's enough there for you and Daryl both. It seems light, but it works. Just take it, Merle."

He tucked the small bundle of mesh into the inside of his Army jacket, giving her the same look like he thought she was going to demand a kidney in return for the scraps of material. He never said 'thank you' but he did shove her away from stepping into a trap he'd set, so that was something. They walked for about two hours before he spoke.

"You find it harder to be right with God? Now?"

Since she wasn't sure she was ever right with God- and who got to decide that- Siobhan shrugged. "I think it's hard for most people most of the time. It's not like you can hit a switch in your head and stop asking questions or having doubts."

"Maybe not." His face was lost to her in the absolute cold darkness, but she could dimly make out his body. "I spect folks blame Him for a shitload of their own mess. Do that too much and He goes away."

"You think God's gone away?"

"Naw. Not all the way." His tone was speculative, but almost restrained. Like he was holding back from all he wanted to say, believing there was some greater power listening in.

"Where to then?"

Merle paused at the small rise of a hill, hand restlessly patting the fat wooden stock of his shotgun. "Tween you an me? I think He got so tired of all the bullshit that He went to sleep…and all this here? It's His long bad dream. Real for us- but He thinks He's just dreamin it could be like this."

A little chill went down her back, and it was as swift as it was unexpected. The alien cold in the air and expanse of darkness made his words seem eerie and had her wondering about what else Merle never said aloud. Siobhan drew her coat tighter around herself.

"And when He wakes up?"

Her soft question made Merle look in her direction before he shrugged. He turned to head into Shane and Daryl's turf, saying in a voice almost a whisper, "Maybe He'll be sorry."

**A/N- This is a long time coming, at least from my POV. I wanted to let everyone know, from the first chapter that was published, I have so thoroughly appreciated the readers and their support. I was mega stoked to see alerts put on this story- and to know that y'all might be coming back to read more. I don't want to miss anyone, or skip a name, but a chorus of thank-yous from me, with heartfelt appreciation.**

I value your time and am touched you allot to me, via reading this story, that precious commodity. Thank you. Thank you for the reviews as well. Seeing alerts and subscriptions pop up make me all kindsa happy.

**Psychobeachgirl88- **_Thank you for coming back and getting more helpings of this story and for leaving kind words of encouragement and some spitfire love. Those words are like vitamins, seriously. My first review came from you and I lit up like the 4__th__ of July._

**Penelope Bacon- **_Thank you for reading and I am so happy to tell you more. And more. I guarantee it'll ramp up and take off like a bullet soon. Beginnings can be so tricky- but I am glad to share this one with a reader as kind as you._

**Ms. Persephone- **_Aw, I am so glad you like the dialogue. I love listening to a good conversation- or partaking, and it's a blessing to nail it exactly the way I want it to come across. Thank you for reading and for telling me you liked what you saw. _

**Eloquent dreams- **_Hello and many thanks for giving this tale a try. I wanted Siobhan to come across as herself even if she is supposedly a nun. The business of being a nun is going to be tricky for her, and by this point you know why. She is not one for living in mistruths but she's trying to do the best she can. Until she can't. Thank you for reading and I hope you like where this goes!_

**Graciella Red 74-** So many words. First of all, thank you for living up to your name and being ever gracious. I am so pleased you read this story, like it and tell me so. I am also very pleased to bring you some Merle here and there and I hope the AU aspects don't put anyone off. But anyway, I am smothering you in hugs and fine chocolate for being someone I admire and look forward to hearing from be it an update or a review… all things good to you.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

'_I want love to roll me over slowly,  
Stick a knife inside me, and twist it all around.  
I want love to grab my fingers gently,  
Slam them in a doorway, Put my face into the ground.  
I want love to murder my own mother,  
Take her off to somewhere, like hell, or up above.  
And I want love to change my friends to enemies,  
Change my friends to enemies, and show me how it's all my fault.  
And I won't let love disrupt, corrupt or interrupt me  
I won't let love disrupt, corrupt or interrupt me  
Yeah I won't let love disrupt, corrupt or interrupt me, anymore.  
I want love to walk right up and bite me,  
Grab a hold of me and fight me, leave me dying on the ground.  
I want love to split my mouth wide open,  
And cover up my ears and never let me hear a sound  
I want love to forget that you offended me,  
Or how you have defended me when everybody talked me down.'  
_-Love Interruption, Jack White

"**What happened was, God made Adam. Gave him a shitload of room, free food- he was happy as a tick in summer, twice as healthy. Adam was livin it up, and startin to get a little too relaxed. Made God jealous coz God had so much work to do all the time. So God had this grin on His face, same way kids do when they're tyin tin cans to a cat's tail- and He said, 'How you doin down there, son? Everything seem good? You happy?' Adam said, 'Nothin can go wrong. I'm so happy I don't know what to do with myself.' So God, He needed a good laugh. He made 'Woman' and plunked her down, just to fuck up Adam's shit. And the Almighty's had a free show ever since. Still ain't done laughin over it either**."

As a kid, Daryl had heard that little 'bible story' from his brother. Merle's version of advice on women and their origin. Because women weren't enough of an enigma, you had to stir in some religion too. Really muddy the waters.

But Daryl didn't much need advice on women in general; he was pretty specifically interested in just the one. The one that kept intruding on his thoughts when he was patrolling and especially if he was trying to sleep. Making him feel too hot for his skin, sure if he was touching her the burn might go down.

_Like you'd know what to do with her anyway_.

Goddamn. Everyone had a voice in their head, so's they could talk to themselves and say some down and dirty things you'd stomp a stranger for saying. Didn't mean you wanted to hear it. Worse still, Daryl noted, his inner voice sounded way too much like his older brother. Superior and grating when Merle had a bone he gnawed at, wouldn't let go of. Merle would come across like he thought you were dumbed than dog shit, but with just enough truth in whatever he said that he got you wondering against your will. It was annoying as hell.

Daryl's mind circled around and back to her. Just her. Ignoring his brother's raspy voice in his head, he let his mind wander where it most wanted to go. Siobhan. With her funny name and pretty eyes. He smiled, thinking of how she glared at him and slammed her shoulder to his when he pissed her off. She was keeping a lid slammed down tight on herself. Made a body wonder what'd happen once she let go all the way. He imagined just standing behind her, getting closer and closer til they were touching. He'd slide an arm around her belly and bring her body back to his, feeling where she was so hot right down there, cupping his hard cock with her tight ass. He had watched her ass enough to know, even in those baggy pants she liked to wear, that thing was perfect. If he had his hands on that ass, she'd know what he was there for. Just like that. There'd be no mistaking what he wanted. He could skip words.

Words never did right by him anyway. If he tried to smooth talk his way to a woman, somehow his tongue turned on itself and knotted up. Smooth talking was about as likely from him as opera being sung by Merle. Let's be fair. Everyone had their strengths. Most people, anyway. Getting a woman outta her pants was not his strong suit. He never had much luck between being shy and the shadow of his brother's ways hanging over him. Women that knew he was Merle's brother expected Merle, and he wasn't his brother. He wasn't down for bending them over the bar after closing time, slamming them full of cum and drunken words. It made Daryl grimace to recall some of the worst of the lot that Merle'd used to get his dick wet. Not exactly the pick of the litter every time. Some of em had nothing going for them but where their tits took em. His brother had always found that type like a heat seeking missile. Merle could leave a woman wet and exhausted at a truck-stop stranded and they'd still be chasing after him.

Teasing Siobhan was about all the fun Daryl was having lately and if she knew a thing about him? She'd be throwing it back in his face. She would clue into how much b.s. he was talking and hit him where he lived. Tell him flat out he'd never had a handful of women, and didn't deserve a chance at her amazing ass no-ways.

Daryl had plenty to say to himself on the subject.

What kind of man was it that only knew about having a woman because his brother bought him one when he turned sixteen? A hooker in the bathroom stall wasn't exactly romantic. He'd used a condom- his insistence, not hers- and was glad of it. She was what she was, and he had no doubt Merle had test-driven her before. After losing his cherry, Daryl mostly avoided Merle's attempts to fix him up when he could. Sometimes, a girl'd end up in his lap, shoved there by his brother like a Viking sharing his haul. Daryl, more often than not, escaped with his pants on. A blowjob here or there, sometimes he liked to look at them- but he was always put off knowing they were part of his brother's unofficial harem of skanks.

Siobhan didn't ever need to know that his overtures her way were new to him. Like he was pretending to know what he was doing, maybe channeling some of Merle's fathomless swagger but tempering it with humor. Not just going caveman on her. Problem was? He wanted to get way more direct. Her shying away helped him get his legs under him. Nature dictated he figure some of this shit out before she was up and gone, taking his want with her. Or, even more hopefully, she decided that she wanted to give him a try- he'd need to know what he was doing. No hesitating. Take her down and out as quick as he would a Walker. That was right, right? Be direct. Women didn't stomach much hemhawing around or nonsense when they thought you were going to fuck em in half.

Especially if you were getting them to go against their better judgment. She'd offered to _pray_ for him, and he would have sworn she was teasing. But he liked it. Wanted some more.

Should he feel guilty lusting after a nun? Merle seemed to think it meant something. His brother was being downright solicitous to the sisters. Daryl suspected even if Merle didn't hold much with heaven, he sure as fuck believed in hell. Seen more proof of hell in their lives, made sense to not want to live there permanently. If Merle'd done half the stuff he was accused of- and prosecuted for- then he had reason to worry if there was such a thing as hell. Daryl didn't hold much belief in religion himself. He knew it made people bat-shit crazy, but that wasn't necessarily a selling point. What he did believe in had more to do with the here and now. The physical. Being alive and keeping it that way. He had convictions that ran closer to what he had seen, felt and done in his life. Nothing asides it. He thought most of that stuff was a crutch, so people could wait around for someone to take care of them. Make their choices, give them something to hide behind when they wanted to do something especially hateful or petty. He shook his head, like he could knock the thoughts loose but they'd wander back all the same.

"Didn't I tell you to watch where the fuck you're stepping? You make enough noise, you might as well holler it's dinner time."

Daryl came out of his musings to hear Shane berating Deshawn, glancing their way as the one-time deputy was being top-dog over the new kid.

Deshawn clenched his jaw, re-shouldering the bag he was carrying, asking from gritted teeth. "But you yelling is better? You need to flex nuts on me when I stepped on a fucking stick?"

"I figure you're asking me if I am being a hard-ass instead of babying you every step of the way, answer's 'yes'. You're on my walk, you'll do it my way, boy."

Chances were Shane wasn't being racial, so much as condescending over age- but Deshawn already didn't like the man. Cop or not, Shane was not the god of the zombie apocalypse. Deshawn knew Siobhan and Sister Sarah wanted to make nice with these people but that only went so far. Deshawn tried to remember Siobhan telling him to keep his temper in check. Not to let his anger be a weapon to anyone but himself. He wasn't a punk. In his neighborhood, Shane wouldn't have lasted long. Not with his hard grins and oily words.

"Don't call me 'boy', asshole. I'm not one of your bitches, so don't try treating me like one."

Seeing how Shane was starting to smile at the kid, Daryl derailed the ex-cop's train of thought. "Who'd you put with Merle with tonight? Another kid?"

The way Shane laughed, it wasn't friendly but he had his moments when he was in between different kinds of crazy. Daryl just wanted to sway him from jumping Deshawn like this was a pissing contest. That sure wouldn't take down the noise none, and Shane wouldn't care about Walkers if he was feeling mad-dog enough. It irked Daryl on some whole other level when Shane was just acting out his temper. There was a time and place, when it wasn't nothing more than a big dick contest, it could wait. Shane just looked too pleased with himself right now.

"Sent him out with the nun. She offered to help out. Rick said she couldn't be any worse than some of the others. Way I figure it, she can do the most good taking Merle off my hands for the night."

Daryl gave Shane a long and opaque look, thinking that Shane really had a hard-on for throwing trouble his brother's way. Waiting for Merle to jump at bait, hoping the elder Dixon would cross the line. That would take Merle and Daryl out of the equation, right? Leave it wide open so's Shane could do whatever he wanted to with Rick when he couldn't wait no more. It was playing the odds, knowing if Merle was hurt or killed, Daryl would soon follow. And if Merle attacked or hurt a freaking nun? Rick wouldn't take it. Rick would be forced to take on the Dixons. It would be a good try if Merle was about to touch Siobhan. Now, the thing wasn't what Merle'd do- it was what Shane was hoping his brother'd do. It was the same sick-slick feeling when you stared at water and shadow something big and full of teeth moving around down there, just you weren't sure what it was- or how close it was coming.

"Sure hope Merle doesn't think she's a sign-on bonus. Hate to see her get hurt." Shane said the words with mock regret, wondering over Daryl's stony silence. Those blue eyes had gone so flat it was like they were separated by ice. He wanted a rise out of Daryl, something to break up the monotony of the night. Shane felt a buzz when he was close to making someone else lose their cool. It made him think he had a better handle on his own self-control. Second by second.

A deep, and real laugh left Deshawn before he shook his head, walking past Shane. "Yeah, well, I don't think she'll have any trouble with your boy. She can hold her own." He had known Siobhan for way too long to think she was going to be getting dragged down to the ground by any man- no matter what they might think. She had fought bare-handed with grown and muscled men, intent on taking them to the point they cried a draw or lost consciousness. All the nun-stuff aside, the woman was not vulnerable like some might think. Female didn't equate weak. He eyed Shane a second before laughing again. "She's going to be alright. Best believe it. I won't even tell her what you said. Consider it a gift."

Puzzling over what Deshawn had to say, Daryl was thinking over the way the younger man laughed. Like it was ridiculous to think Merle could overpower the nun, possibly do more than make really clear what he was after. What was that about? Something. He might not know much about her, besides she wasn't shy about killing Walkers and liked music he couldn't hardly stand- but he had to wonder what Deshawn knew that he didn't.

An hour later, he was still mulling it over when he saw two figures coming out of the woods. Merle and Siobhan quietly walked across the gravel and shell drive, looking no worse for wear. Siobhan had a stripe of blood across one cheek and Daryl had to stop himself from reaching over to see if it was a cut, or someone else's blood. He thought about it but like she felt him looking, her hand lifted, cuff rubbing the stain away.

"We found a little herd." Merle said, tossing back some water from the bottle he was carrying. "Seven of em sonsabitches. That one, shit, he was a big bastard. Head split open like a melon."

"Had to be six-seven." Siobhan agreed in a soft tone. "They hadn't come across the wall, but it seemed close enough." She wished she could have gotten to the giant zombie before Merle did, but the man had headed right for the biggest of the Walkers. Ruefully, she knew Merle had wanted the biggest one for himself. It wasn't any weird form of chivalry, that had been…for fun. She let Diablo out of the bag she was carrying, seeing his stiff-legged walk around them as he reasserted his masculinity despite being carried for awhile.

"Any more in that area? You leave any?" Shane asked, sounding efficient, cool. His eyes scanned the deep black of the night, and then he glanced back towards the house. "Could be drawing them in. Us all tucked into the house. Smelling like food."

"Maybe." Daryl drawled, "But if it's near time to move on again then best do it before we have to."

"Rick wants to wait out the cold. Said there's no telling how serious it could be. Unless we want to vote on it…" There was plenty left at the end of Shane's words, unsaid but still spoken.

"What's the point of goin out and walkin, killin the fuckers if we can't hold onto a place when we need to?" Merle harshly laughed slapping Siobhan across the back hard enough to get a quickly swallowed yelp from her before he rested his shotgun across his shoulders once more. "I ain't freezing my balls off for nothing. Rick wants to hole up here, let him make the call. We got time when we need it. No point uprootin everyone like all we know how to do is run."

Making a considering sound, Shane turned away from them. "Let's do another sweep before we head back in to walk the yard. We don't know it's clear."

"It's never clear." Siobhan was not keen on having her thoroughness questioned, but Shane didn't know her well enough to trust her to be good at what she did. Still? In this world, there was no certainty when there was open land and roads around the house they slept in. There were zombies every-fucking-where. She bit back those words, falling in line like a good soldier.

Shuffling feet heavy, she plodded down the stairs, holding fast to the railing as she let her feet slide free of the last step enough to tease and sliding. The thick socks she wore made it a little dangerous to brave the hardwood floors, but she smelt coffee. Walking into the kitchen, Siobhan yawned into the sleeve of the long-sleeved t-shirt she wore, dimly acknowledging people sitting at the table. But they didn't matter. Not yet.

Once upon a time, waking up would have meant a cup of coffee and a cigarette while she sat on the stoop of her building. Saying hey to neighbors, hearing music painting the air with bold strokes. Those mornings were long gone, but she could still miss them. That feeling of not being sure what she'd do that day if she wasn't fighting. A whole day to make plans, whatever- or chilling at the shelter, watching movies with the kids. Playing some basketball. Now? No such thing as a free day.

Coffee in hand, she leaned her back to the counter, listening as Rick was talking in that low but kind tone of his.

"The cold is going to get worse. I feel it. I know you do too."

He sounded so impassioned that Siobhan had to look to where Daryl, Shane, Hershel, Glenn and T-Dog were all weighing it out. Something was definitely up.

"Not for nothing," T-Dog said, "But more mouths to feed, with it getting colder- … people are hungrier. Rationin is okay if we have a definite haul comin in, but we don't. Glenn came back empty-handed."

Glenn looked stricken, "I did my best-"

"We know that. We all know that." Rick assured the man, nodding too at what T-Dog said. "We can find a smaller city to try for. An outlying town."

"With just as big a chance for Walkers but less chance of supplies." Shane argued, sounding reasonable in the cold light of day. "Least with a bigger city, there's more businesses. Homes."

"I know we're more mouths to feed." Siobhan interjected in the tense quiet. "I can help. Go with and bring back warm clothes. Food. I take responsibility for the my people. I never wanted to-"

Rick rose and put a hand to her arm for a moment. "It's not wrong for kids to be hungry. It's life. We just need to get everyone warm and fed. That's all it is. A supply run holds it's own threats though. "

"Which is why we should move on period." Shane argued, keeping his voice down. "We are going to drain everyplace around this house until we've isolated ourselves off from new sources. What sense does that make?"

Daryl huffed, "What we don't know can make a whole lot of difference. A supplies run makes more damned sense. We go in, get a big haul and get back here. We have held onto this place this long, I don't think movin when there's a chance of a storm makes any damned sense."

"It's lookin bad out there." T-Dog agreed, not liking it one bit. The windows were iced up, the wood of the porch creaking like a warning underfoot. "We don't want to get caught out, Shane. We aren't all goin to be able to take off runnin if need be."

"Aw, that don't bother law-dog none." Merle commented, coming in the back door. "He'd sure hate to see someone fall tryin to keep up, but he'd cry it out and be right as rain by dinner time."

Rick shook his head. "Let's get this decided. I say we stay in the house, at least til after the cold passes- then we decide where we're going next. Shane, we know where you stand, and that Hershel agrees with you about moving. But if we're voting on it, I think you know where the majority lies."

The old man across from Rick sighed. "Just don't want the farm all over again. We waited too long. We lost…" Hershel bowed his head, eyes misty. "We can't be too careful."

"So we stay careful but we don't become reckless about it. We don't scare ourselves out of a situation that's working for the moment." Glenn reasoned, wanting Hershel to see what could come out of jumping at your own shadow. "You said you haven't seen weather like this since 1945."

Hershel nodded, shrewd eyes on the man that was practically his son-in-law. "I'll lay my vote with you on this, you and Rick. I can't say I want to see anyone stuck out in this, if it's anything like that storm. We'd do better eking it out with walls around us."

Shane gusted a sigh, standing. "Fine. We can just sit here and wait to get picked off."

"Oh, don't worry, sugar. I'd make sure they get you first." Merle taunted with a wink.

"So we need volunteers to go for a supply run." Rick spoke as if Merle and Shane weren't giving each other looks of aggression. "We also need some of our strongest to stay here. We can't send everyone out."

"I'll go." Glenn said, noting Merle and Shane easing down like a line had been snapped between them by Rick.

"Me too." Siobhan said.

Then, like an echo, Daryl was saying, "An me. That's enough. More than that and we'd need more than one ride. This'll do. There and back. Make a list, Rick. We'll get what we need."

**A/N- okay so this chapter grew and got longer, but I needed to get them directed towards the next chapter and yup. All I'm saying on that one or I'll go on and on. Thank you for reading and putting this story on Alert- ****Alec116, Amtsy, ilovepotions, LoyalAsAViking and Poshy ! I finally figured out how to see the alerts list all at once and I wanted to say thank you veryvery much for reading.**

**Ravenclaw Samurai****- Thank you! Dialogue and character interaction can be tricky, especially with characters people already know and love so I try to do em proud and I am glad I hit some good notes in there. I thank you lots.**

**Caffiend04****- Thank you so much for the review! With Siobhan, she doesn't like to feel attachment to what happened to her. It's her version of therapy to work on who she is now, what she is capable of. Notably, denial is not the best medicine. I am glad it came across the way I wanted to convey her emotions. Thank you for telling me so. On a lighter note, Dixonsss. I like how rough and gruff Daryl can be even when he thinks he's being sociable. It cracks me up. I hope you enjoy where the story goes, gore, love and all. **

**GypsyWitchBaby- Thank you! Sometimes those rough and tumble types can be annoying enough to pitch bricks at, but when they're sober, they aren't nearly as bad. Good weather doesn't last forever. Sigh. But again, many thanks.**

**Eloquent dreams****, HA! I bet Merle'd have something to say about havin PLENTY to say. Then he'd grumble all quiet like to himself. But I am glad you liked that moment when he 'shared'. Not easy to get him to say something unless he's looking to irritate somebody… so thankyou very much for reading. I dig seeing what you think.**

**Amaya Dixon- Hello Amaya! Thank you from head to toe for reading and leaving a review. I get almost screechy over reviews and I appreciate it very much indeed. I hope you like the story as it progresses…!**

**GraciellaRed74- Hugs and a flurry of lovins. Thank you for your ever thoughtful, warming and engaging review. I wanted to give Merle something like a fair shake. He's nowhere near perfect but he's more honest about it than some people. I always got the feeling that the world gave up on him so early that he never knew he could be more than what he was called, started to be a shadow of what he could've been. That can happen to people, when they become self-fulfilling prophecies of /bad/ because they repeat what they think is their own hearts and minds, but it's more like a distorted reflection. Sad to ever be in a loop like that. **

**Nuku nuku6- Big thanks for faving the story!**

** prey (Poe fan?) Thank you for the favorite!**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

_We might kiss when we are alone_

_When nobody's watching, we might take it home_

_We might make out when nobody's there_

_It's not that we're scared, It's just that it's delicate_

_So why do you fill my sorrow with the words you've borrowed_

_From the only place you've known_

_And why do you sing Hallelujah, If it means nothing to you_

_Why do you sing with me at all?_

_We might live like never before_

_When there's nothing to give_

_Well how can we ask for more_

_We might make love in some sacred place_

_The look on your face is delicate.'_

_Damien Rice, 'Delicate'_

With the knowledge hanging overhead that a party was going out for supplies, the house had become quieter. A tension vibrated in the air, all the things people tried not to say. 'Be careful' or 'Don't go', variations of the same, bitten back with a kind of superstitious caution. Siobhan hated seeing the kids turn woeful eyes to her like she might not come back. At the same time, she could not hang back while others went in her stead. She was the provider for her group. That meant more than being worried. She was busy shoving water bottles and granola bars into her duffel bag when Sister Sarah cast a shadow over her crouched form. Siobhan looked up, her eyes wary before she realized who it was and eased down.

"We won't be gone long."

"A promise like that is not so easy to keep, Siobhan. I wish you were not going."

The calm tone contrasted with the deeply concerned look on the elder woman's face.

"It's not right if I don't go." Siobhan asserted steadfastly. "It's my place."

"How did you come to that conclusion?"

Siobhan tied off the bag, making sure it was good and tight.

"Because we are here, under their roof, and they took us in. We're eating their food. It's not like I can sit on my hands and act like we don't owe them anything. If we were still on the road, feeding everyone and keeping them safe would be my primary concern. My job. Just like this is. That's all there is to it."

Moving into the room, Sister Sarah frowned in disapproval, arms folded over her chest.

"You're going on this… expedition for _everyone_? Or are you going to spend more time with that man? I don't like how he looks at you, Siobhan. Worse, I don't like how you've been looking back."

Foot lashing out, Siobhan kicked the bedroom door shut with a crack of sound. For the sake of their privacy, Siobhan had closed the door, but there was no mistaking it that the younger woman was upset. Sister Sarah observed her placidly as Siobhan rose to her feet, anger kindled in her eyes.

"You're forgetting, Sister- that I am not what you want me to be. Maybe I can keep it up for a while longer, maybe I can do it for the rest of my life- I don't know, but it won't ever make it _true_. So if I slip up and look at a man- I can do that. Looking isn't … it's not the same as acting, is it? I do every other thing you ask of me. All of it. "

Hurt over Sister Sarah's words, feeling as if she'd disappointed the woman, shamed her somehow, Siobhan shook her head. She lifted her bag, fitting the strap over her shoulder as she prepared to go.

"Siobhan, all I am saying is be careful. Come back to us. We need you. That man, if he touched you, if he used you as men do- when it was over, you would hate yourself. I don't want to see that. Not for you. I love you like a daughter. I want you to be safe. I never want to see your eyes go dead again, your spirit almost lost, because you were hurt."

Siobhan was at a loss for words, not wanting to even dredge up the past. Her memories were nailed down in a dark, back corner of her mind, and she wanted to imagine them buried so deep that no trace could surface. She gave the nun a brief nod, not trusting herself to speak. Leaving the room, she went down the wide staircase, seeing the kids all gathered at the ground floor. She did not linger long, afraid she might cry, or just not be able to leave them for a second, duty or not. Walking away from their anxious eyes was like a knife in her gut. On the porch, she saw Daryl and Merle having a little talk before Daryl stomped down the steps towards the truck they were taking. He was heading right for Glenn and Maggie as the two seemed to be squaring off with angry whispers.

Siobhan frowned, asking sotto-voice to Merle, "What's going on with them?"

Smirking, Merle made a rude sound. "Fightin over her not goin. She heard you're goin and been givin him hell for it. Don't like anything with tits alone with her man."

Both of Siobhan's brows rose and she had to bite her tongue. There was a buzz in her brain of everything she shouldn't say out-loud. Maggie, she felt, had a better rack than she did- but that wasn't the point. Siobhan was not on the prowl for Glenn. What the hell? She was almost certain it was a well-known fact nuns were celibate, and they all thought she was a nun. It was ridiculous, but people let jealously goad them like nothing else could. She pulled on a knit cap, muttering, "I'll try to control myself from seducing Glenn while we're knee deep in dead people looking for canned food."

A gust of laughter left Merle before he saw Daryl was over there making the lovebirds quit screeching at each other. Probably didn't want Glenn crying on the way to the city, Merle reckoned. To Siobhan, he said, "That's what you get when you let a woman snag yer-" He seemed to remember he wanted to watch his mouth around the nuns, and coughed to the side, spitting. "He's got to lay down some law before she's pinnin notes to his shirt and spoon feedin him."

His sudden pause made her want to laugh but, out of respect, she didn't. Merle might not understand she wasn't mocking him. Better to err on the side of caution.

When Daryl came walking back their way, he darted his eyes over her for a second before saying to his brother. "She's comin with. I give up and we need to get goin."

The way Merle rolled his eyes, it was a good summation for his opinion. Siobhan agreed, but maybe- just maybe- they'd find some Walkers and have a little less Days of Our Lives and more Dawn of the Dead. She could hope. Sometimes the histrionics of people could just make her exceedingly uncomfortable, not because they had emotional outbursts, but because she wasn't sure what to do about it. People seemed to expect you to interact and try to do something when they were upset. Her methods didn't work for everything, especially insecurities or romance. You couldn't punch someone into being happy.

Siobhan couldn't have cared less if Maggie wanted to mark Glenn as her territory. They were together. It was a done deal, and as much as Siobhan admired and liked Glenn, well… she didn't feel attracted to him. Best to talk to him less on this trip. For his own sake. She ignored the other woman's looks as she got into the truck. Luckily it wasn't a tiny truck, the front of the cab big enough for four even if it was a little closer than Siobhan would have liked. She was stuck between Daryl , as he drove, and Maggie, with Glenn at the passenger side door. _This _cozy, Siobhan wished she had headphones. Her radio was behind at the house, and she missed it already. Music could discourage people from chatting with you when you wanted to pretend to have some privacy. Cigarettes also worked magic in warding off others. She had neither.

The Ford 150 was more comfortable than she'd expected and the leg room was a plus. Gradually, Siobhan relaxed, glad to feel the truck barreling down the roads as Daryl drove with ease. Her eyes went to the steering wheel, watching his hands as he drove. Why she found the sight of his flexing grip and fingers intriguing was beyond her, but she wanted to look. Imagine taking one of his hands and tracing her fingers over his? The thought made her warm despite the chill of the air. There was no harm in looking, she kept telling herself. Imagining wasn't doing. It was all a secret, and she was good with secrets.

Maggie leaned into Glenn, snuggling to him to show he was forgiven for trying to leave her behind. She seemed content despite what they were heading towards. Siobhan was just glad to know that Maggie had gone on runs before. This wasn't some weird, twisted double-date gig. Maggie could handle herself. Siobhan was also hoping Maggie would see that Glenn was safe from being seduced by her any time soon. He wasn't even her type. If she had a type. Like he knew what she was thinking, Daryl's eyes met hers before he cracked a smile so infinitesimal it might have been a trick of the light.

"Y'all know there's a backseat to the cab. If you need to make up without makin our skin crawl."

Though Glenn laughed, Maggie blushed and tried gamely to sit up.

"Shut up, Daryl. We were just cuddling."

"Whatever you want to call it, don't have to do it on toppa us. That's all I'm sayin."

A huff came out of Maggie before she shared a look with Glenn. "We could get some sleep before we get to the city. It's going to be a couple hours before we're there."

Glenn was about as subtle as his woman was, the way he smiled like naps were the second best thing to breathing air. "That makes perfect sense. We need to be alert once we-"

"I'm pullin over. Don't need to hear any more about how great fuckin sleepin is."

Daryl hit the shoulder of the road long enough for Maggie and Glenn to claim the backseat, a blanket shared between them. Maggie tossed the extra blanket up front before the truck was back on the road again. The sound of little laughs and sighs escaped from the back seat, smothered by the truck's rumbling engine. Siobhan was hoping they were not having full on sex right behind her, but she sure as hell wasn't looking back to check either. The little giggles and kissing sound were bad enough without extra visuals. She noted Daryl wasn't checking the rearview mirror either, his eyes on the road as he headed towards the city.

Part 2-

Offering Glenn and Maggie the back seat was not exactly some selfless act on Daryl's part. He never considered himself to be altruistic, no reason to start now. Still? He was sure Siobhan was going to give him a look like she was onto him and it'd be all over. He'd be busted for trying to get her alone. Even _this much_ alone. It wasn't like he begrudged Glenn getting some. Far from it, he just appreciated being able to get the lovebirds in the back of the truck. It was going to come in handy since Glenn had agreed to be the one driving back. So that meant, it might make sense then to have Siobhan and himself in the back. Let Glenn and Maggie stay together. Made sense.

Right?

He was thinking it over when he felt a stirring at his side. Siobhan was unfolding the blanket, looking at him with a little blush on her face. She seemed hesitant to move around too much, like it might bug him when he was driving. Or maybe, like him, she felt unfolding a blanket seemed to hint at more than just keeping warm. It felt intimate.

"You mind? It's alright?"

Her voice was husky, cheeks rosy.

No, he didn't mind at all. He wasn't sure what she thought he might mind here. Daryl shrugged one shoulder, whispering back since her voice was broken, soft.

"Naw, it's getting colder. We got some time still. You can get some sleep."

She frowned, biting her lower lip. "I should help you stay awake." As she heard her own words, she blushed more, adding swiftly, "Talking."

"If that's what you want to do. Let's talk."

Daryl noticed, with amusement, how she covered up with the blanket like it'd save her. He decided to let the tension between them stretch out nice and slow, because when it finally snapped it'd be all the better. There was something about drawing her out that had him feeling all the more ready to see her come to him. However that came about, he felt it would. He chose not to think about her ever taking off, like if he didn't think about it, he wouldn't give that prospect any power. Slanting a look to her, he noticed she dropped her eyes from his. Just that fast.

"Why'd you decide to be a nun?"

The face she made had him laughing. She looked like she had just bitten into a lemon or something.

"That bad?"

Siobhan settled back to the seat, her eyes guarded. When she answered, it was stilted.

"I wanted to help people. People no one seemed to be stopping for. Sometimes it seemed like, if you didn't have anything the world wanted from you, something that could be used or taken- you didn't register period. I guess I always thought kids had worth just because they were alive at all. Someone should care. Help out women. Children. Those that can't necessarily do it for themselves. I don't like being another person that ignores some really horrible, evil stuff."

She dropped her gaze, uncomfortable, he could tell.

"That's not a bad reason, is it? Wantin to make a difference?" He bit at the corner of his lower lip, tongue touching the raw spot there before he ventured. "Someone ignored you, didn't they? Kept walkin? Got you wonderin why you didn't seem to mean nothing."

She was quiet so long he was sure she wasn't going to say a word, but she surprised him.

"I don't think she knew how to…"

Siobhan paused, turning her face so he wasn't seeing much but her hair and the cap she was wearing. Didn't doubt it was on purpose either. She felt like hiding, and he knew that inclination. She bowed her head, voice seeming smaller than he'd heard from her before.

"I don't think we're all born knowing how to be strong. Some of us learn, some of us don't. My mother never felt good unless she had a man, no matter what that meant. Had to have one or she wasn't a woman. It was how she saw herself, I guess. Being a woman, beautiful, worth anything, you had to have a man. Someone had to want you. Like that. Not much else mattered to her."

He wanted to touch her, but maybe he was already being too intrusive just asking personal questions. Still, his hand was moving across the seat, fingers brushing hers. Her look to him was startled but then, she took in a shaky breath like she was about to go underwater, and her fingers laced to his. He felt how her hand trembled, even while his thumb brushed her palm.

They didn't say a word about it, but they held hands until she fell asleep.

Part 3

The mall they had chosen was close enough to the interstate that if it proved too overrun or barren, they'd have a fairly quick route back to the road. It was a feasible choice, being large and carrying an array of stores that had potential for yielding useful supplies. As cheerful as the mall had been before the Walkers, now it seemed to loom over them as if asking for permission to fall. Long , dark shadows cut starkly over the parking lot, the tall overhead lights dead eyes staring down. Some grisly stains were on the pavement in front of the mall, but no bodies. Siobhan wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. The big structure was once covered in Christmas lights, strands still hanging here and there like electric kudzu vines. Her eyes went to the movie posters plastered over one side of the inner glass, musing over how strange it would be to kids born that never got to go to a theatre, have the butter smeared popcorn and feel the gummy floor sucking at the bottom of their sneakers as they watched the screen light up and tell a story.

Keeping her machete ready, she wondered if she was the only one that didn't trust how easy things had been so far. Sure, there were Walkers, and the long – _very cold_- walk- but it didn't add up to the trouble she had anticipated. The way in had been interesting but not terribly bad, some zombies to take out, others to avoid, but Siobhan was glad to see everyone brought their A game. Maggie was competent and that relieved Siobhan. Maggie was not just clinging to Glenn's side and sending out 'back off' signals. Realizing she had underestimated Maggie, it made her inwardly promise to show Maggie her due from now on. Siobhan had more respect for the other woman after seeing her take her axe to a Walker. Strange that beheading the dead could bring the living closer, bonding over guts. Siobhan kept that thought to herself, sure it was not very Christian or something. She tried to tell herself not to be so damned negative. After all, some good things could happen in life. It wasn't all bad. Thinking of the ride in, her cheeks tinted. She felt almost buoyant, and as bizarre as the sensation was, it blossomed in her. Just from holding Daryl's hand like she was a little kid.

No, not like a kid. The emotions he stirred in her were very adult in nature. Confusing, brilliant, but not innocent when she wanted to run and hide. Or ask him if he had any idea why it felt so good. Did he feel that same rush? Looking over towards the man in question, she watched him using bolt cutters on the chains binding the heavy glass and steel doors closed.

The chains fell away with a hiss of sound that Glenn cut short by catching the lot and lowering the links gingerly to the ground. The less noise the better. They went inside swiftly, like shadows slipping away from the sun. Night was coming on, and being indoors was preferable even if the place need to be cleared. Listening just inside the foyer, the four of them were statue-still.

Hearing nothing, Daryl gestured for them to walk, but quietly. They entered the main section of the shopping center, seeing a giant 'you are here' map. Glenn pried open the encasement and pulled the map out carefully, not tearing it when he could help it.

"Looks like we'd get everything faster if we split up." Glenn remarked, eyeing the possible stops.

"No way in hell."

Surprised at Daryl's response, Maggie whispered, "We have a big list. Two floors to hurry through. We don't want to get stuck here if the roads freeze over."

"We can do it by level, if you want. " Siobhan read over the map, seeing a GNC Nutrition store and two bookstores. Not that she'd been told to get books, but she'd try, for the kids. "They have a sporting goods store by the Dillards and Penneys. "

"I don't think it's a good idea. Splittin up. Even if it takes longer." Eyes flinty, Daryl shook his head. "Place seems…"

"Every place is creepy now." The words from Glenn were meant to be reassuring. "We need to get moving. Maggie and Siobhan can go get clothes and we can check the sporting goods place and the drug store. Hit up the food court."

"Sounds good." Maggie agreed, obviously eager to get started.

"We meet back here in two hours, whether you got what you need or not. Use the walkie if you need to. You see anything, you let us know." Daryl turned on his own walkie, looking like he had more to say, but just giving Siobhan a long look before he was going with Glenn towards the Champs Sporting Goods located way past Sunglass Hut and a store just for cellphone cases.

Wordless as the warning had been, Siobhan had heard it. Daryl was telling her he didn't like this place, be careful. She got that. Resolutely, she walked with Maggie, the two hitting up the J.C. Penney's for some of the clothing they were collecting. Not too much, but it was tempting. Grabbing necessities meant keeping the weight of their packs in mind. They'd have to carry back whatever they grabbed. Socks, underwear- things harder to come by on the outside.

"Maggie…would you think I was wrong if I asked to run over to the bookstore?"

The other woman looked up from taking a bottle of perfume to put in her bag. "Only if you made me wait outside. We can be fast. "

Sharing a quick smile, the women headed for the Waldenbooks. They were in between bookshelves when Siobhan breathed a sigh of relief. Collecting a few books for the kids, she added in a couple for Carl and Sophia too.

Then things went all to hell.

Maggie had wandered down to another part of the store, taking some comics for Glenn and then eyeing a copy of the Kama Sutra that seemed to cry out to be taken. Her hand was just closing around the book when she heard Siobhan shriek. A true, fear intense scream. Maggie turned in time to see Siobhan vaulting over a reading table, a grotesquely painted up Walker plowing after her. It took a second to register, because the Walker had the biggest smile. Or appeared to be smiling, when the dead never emoted. A big painted on smile was emblazoned over rotting flesh. Maggie was jolted from her shock when Siobhan disappeared under a second Walker, this one wearing a brown paper bag mask tied down over it's head, secured around it's throat. A round circle was cut out in the front of the bag, framing the dead man's snapping jaws and rheumy eyes.

Screaming had to be the worst thing to do around zombies, and Siobhan knew it. Fear didn't ask your permission before it took over- and fuck, fuck- the sight of the zombie with clown paint on its face had freaked her out. She had run from it, if for nothing else, she needed more room to fight. The shelves were so close together that it limited her movement. The paper-bag masked zombie lunged at her, and she felt her body slam to the floor, cursing her fear for making her stupid. Hearing a slamming thud of metal and flesh, she knew Maggie was fighting a Walker as well, but she had no time to look for the other woman as she wrested free of a hand that was coming apart under her desperate fingers.

The worst part, she had time to note, while slicing off the clown zombie's hand, was the sight of three masculine silhouettes in the doorway of the bookstore, armed and watching the show.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

'_Come loose your dogs upon me_

_And let your hair hang down_

_You are a little mystery to me_

_Every time you come around_

_We talk about it all night long_

_We define our moral ground_

_But when I crawl into your arms_

_Everything, it comes tumbling down_ …'

The Ship Song, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

Part 1

The smell of rot and grease paint made Siobhan's eyes water as she struggled against being bitten by the zombie on top of her. His knee was planted in her belly, driving the air out of her in rushes she could ill afford. She had to force herself to stop thinking about the men looking on, bristling with weapons like they knew how to use them. There was nothing tentative in the way the strangers filled the exit of the store. They were not afraid- so she needed to quell her own fear. Rolling onto her side, she slammed her elbow into the Walker's face, hearing the crunch and slosh of breaking bone and flesh. Pressing her lips tightly together, she tried not to breathe in the fetid mist of the Walker's spilling fluids.

With her focus entirely on the big zombie, Siobhan felt vulnerable from every side. She could not stop to think of the potential for threat all around her, that was how you risked freezing up. Fights were lost by forgetting your instincts, following that will to survive. Glad of the shark-suit mail around her neck and wrists, she drove her body upwards, jamming her forearm sideways into the Walker's mouth. She was gaining ground, using the dead man's inclination to bite down, to press his head back more and more. His body followed, easing off of her own. Lifting her machete, she swept her arm back, preparing to hack the fucker's head off when a cool piece of steel caressed her temple.

"Back off, baby girl. Don't make me mess your brains just to keep you off my boy, there. He's one of my favorites and you done already took off his hand."

She shot the strange man a murderous look, stunned to see a metal bit shoved into the zombie's mouth as the painted corpse was pulled away from her. Her gaze shot to Maggie, seeing the other woman was on the floor, a man's boot between her shoulder-blades to keep her pinned. Siobhan's muscles coiled in rage, her need to strike out rising like a hungry flame, but the man holding a gun on her interrupted her train of thought.

"Before you go Xena again, think about whether or not you want your friend to live. I can be patient to a point. Look up at me when I talk to you, girl."

As her face rose to his, she noted his heavy strong jaw; the buzz cut black hair and harsh brows. He looked military to her, even with the thick tattoos winding up his arms. Career military, if she had to guess. She had fought soldiers before; there was something in the way that he held himself that made the impression stick. This man had served tours, definitely knew about killing and staying alive way before the dead began to walk. The man had cool eyes, looking her up and down leisurely. He was assessing her as well, a smile on his mouth.

"Who cut you up? Someone else wantin you to ease down? Pretty girl like you still needs manners." He laughed, looking over to his friends. "We hit the jackpot here. Both of em have good faces, nice bodies. They'll bring in some business." His booted foot nudged Siobhan's hip. "Not that they'll be leavin here without some hospitality from us."

Maggie was hauled up onto her feet, an arm across her throat, gun to her head. The Walker she had been taking on was chained up to the other two, all of them snarling and groaning by the Young Adults section, a strange juxtaposition next to the sulky faces of the Twilight trio on display. Her wide, pained eyes met Siobhan's, but she kept silent. Whatever these men wanted or might do, nothing would be made better by fueling their fire. They just had to hope like hell that Daryl and Glenn weren't similarly cornered.

Huddled over, Siobhan acted as if she was more banged up than she actually was. Holding her belly meant sliding a finger to the walkie-talkie at her hip, hitting the talk button. "Just don't hurt her. There's three of you…and two of us. Please don't shoot us. We were scared! W-what did you think we'd do? You threw those zombies at us…" She coughed, catching her breath but more than that, wanting to sound terrified. "I've never seen them like that before. All painted up. It shook me."

A big, heavy hand rested over Siobhan's head, sending sick shivers down her back. Petting her like a dog. "I know, baby. That's the whole point. Half the fun in paintin them is knowin how people'll piss themselves once they see our…pets. It was Tank's idea."

Tank, the one holding onto Maggie, guffawed. He beamed with pride. "We cleaned out all but the biggest ones from the mall, then we jacked them up. Put some masks and shit on em, make em useful. We found out if you keep em fed they last longer." He ran his hand up under the hem of Maggie's sweater and t-shirt, feeling over her as she tried to jerk away. "Now we just wait, and see what comes in… sometimes we get a catch like the two-a you. Not bad…at all. Whatever we don't keep, we feed to the monsters. But don't you worry, we're goin to be keepin you. Tits like these are goin to save your life." He tugged at Maggie's bra, seeing how the other two men were smiling. As hungry as he was.

"Stop…please….p-please stop…" Maggie begged, her face painted in pain and humiliation while she was being pawed at. She drew a shuddery breath, obviously struggling not to scream or cry.

If she could hear over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears, Siobhan felt she might be able to think this through. She shook all over with suppressed adrenaline and pure rage. The need to kill these men was fire rushing in her veins, wrapping around her as familiar, good and necessary. To kneel down at the feet of a rapist, murderer and trafficker of flesh- it was closing her throat with emotion.

"Go on an' take her upstairs. I want me some time with this one here."

"Don't have to tell me twice, Clark."

Shooting her eyes up to where Maggie was being pulled from the store, Siobhan found her voice- if not her common sense. "Tank." When the man paused to look at her, she smiled to him. "Anything you do to her… I'm going to do…to you…with a big fucking knife."

The brutal slap across her face made her miss seeing Maggie being taken, but she meant it all the same. Hitting the floor totally, Siobhan saw the second pair of booted feet, the man watching the entrance, shift as he turned his back to watch inside the store. That was good. She snarled silently, thinking he was going to get a real show, real soon. She released the button on the walkie-talkie, needing both her hands free now. Pressing her palms to the floor, she took the sharp kick to her side, knowing the man wanted her to hurt. That was fair, in her estimation, since she was going to hurt him as well.

She just had to keep from going too fast. It had to last long enough to give Daryl and Glen time to reach the second story, deal with whatever was in their path. Her certainty that Daryl was coming was strong enough that she would question it later, but now? She knew it was fact. _He was coming_. They were going to get Maggie back- and they were going to waste these men with pain that would echo loud enough to drown out Maggie's screams in her ears.

Part Two

The minute Daryl heard the crackling hum of his walkie picking up, he looked away from the medicine he had been shoving into his pack. Siobhan's voice came across, wobbly, broken- scared. She was scared, but she was making sure of what she said. The first hard thump of his heart had him picking up the walkie –talkie like he could touch her by holding the sound of her voice. Glenn was by his side, listening in as intensely as Daryl did while Siobhan told them what she could.

Three men, at least three, using Walkers like junkyard dogs protecting their turf. Collecting the women to rape or trade, probably both. It was all too clear from what was said that Maggie was already being taken. The men were separating the girls. The sound of Maggie begging for some man to stop what he was doing made Daryl feel sick. Fuck. When Glenn tried to bolt, Daryl grabbed him by the front of the shirt and slammed him to the wall, unsettling tiny bottles of energy drinks from their rack.

"We can't do what we want here. We got to do this right. Stay with me, Glenn. Pay attention. Maggie needs you. Don't lose it."

The words were for Glenn as much as for himself. He wanted to tear up the broken escalator like Death on Judgment Day, mow down anyone or anything that fuckin moved- but this wasn't the movies. Play it wrong and Siobhan and Maggie could be human shields. Crossfire could turn the women into bullet catchers. Those Walkers were still up there too. If things got too crazy, who knew what could happen. The women could be shot or bitten in the melee.

_Over my dead body_, Daryl thought, trying not to imagine Siobhan being savaged, raped. It was making him see red. Daryl relaxed his hold on Glenn's shirt, both of them grim and pale from anger.

"We are goin to go get em. Everyone up there, cept the girls, is dead, you hear me? They're all dead, just don't know it yet."

Grasping Glenn's jaw, Daryl forced the man's eyes to his.

"All dead. Mark me on it."

Not for the first time, Daryl had to make himself be calm when he wanted to rage. Dixon boys were not known for being cool-headed. Far from it. Ask any lawman- well, before they were maggot farms- and they woulda told you that you never went to find a Dixon unless you had back up, no piece of paper or badge would ever have Merle or Daryl coming along peacefully. Fist swinging and teeth bared, they fought like they only knew the law unto themselves. Nothing else. That state of mind had served Daryl when he had to deal with the fall-out Merle generated from everyone in their hometown. But Merle wasn't here now, and Daryl wasn't just fighting for his own damned self. He had to get to Siobhan, and yeah, to Maggie too. He had to get to them before they were dead or worse.

Tempering and channeling his anger had him moving across the lower level of the mall with a hunter's tread. He was aiming to kill- and he did. Two live men that were taking a stroll as they checked the doors and main plaza had their casual conversation cut off when a bolt pierced the throat of one, and the other had his throat slit. Daryl noted how Glenn wiped the knife on the leg of his jeans before Daryl used a bolt in the brains of both men, just to be sure they stayed down. Retrieving his bolts, he walked with Glenn up the shadowed length of the escalator. It was obvious the men had no security cameras, relying on their brute squad and the element of surprise.

Glenn signaled to Daryl when he saw the lurching gait of an on-coming Walker, a werewolf mask pulled over its head. As strange as the mask was, Daryl didn't have time for nobody's crazy right now. He beheaded the 'wolf' with his axe, seeing Glenn take out another Walker with it's skull and face full of nails. The fear and anger lent them strength, and they made good time getting to the second floor.

Not sure where the women had been when they were attacked, Daryl and Glenn were silently casing out the second floor. It was not hard to hear the sound of an assault. The thud of flesh on flesh, groans from pain? Those sounds carried.

All Daryl knew was he had to get to Siobhan. Had to save her. Nothing else mattered. He envisioned seeing her held down, pinned under some sonofabitch. The idea of her body being violated was a sick smear across his mind. Bile rose in his throat and his finger rubbed the trigger of his crossbow like he _needed_ to shoot, had to or he'd come apart on some molecular level.

Coming up behind the stranger guarding the sole entrance to the bookstore, Daryl wasn't quite ready to see Siobhan, the sweet little nun with the long legs- delivering a roundhouse kick to a man's face. She did it like she'd done it before, her body drawn and angled to slam her foot into her attacker's jaw. Much as he was drawn short by the sight of her twisting her hips and slamming a punch home, the man guarding the door was his to take down. Good thing the guard was busy watching the violent scuffle. Daryl had to force himself not to just rush in when the man fighting Siobhan grabbed her fist and they went out of his line of sight, behind a row of shelves. Putting the hungry side of his Bowie knife's blade to the guard's neck, Daryl whispered by his ear.

"Where's the other girl? Where'd your friend take her?"

Seeing how the man swallowed, Daryl let the knife play into the soft skin, drawing a line of sluggish blood to the surface.

"If I was you, I wouldn't go yellin. You got one purpose in this world. Tellin us where the girl is."

"Then you kill me…"

"Yeah, but maybe I do it fast."

Daryl's eyes were drawn back to the sight of Siobhan hitting the wall, the look in her eyes something he couldn't place. She seemed a little gone, not like crazy, but as if she was looking at a whole other time and place than the one they were standing in. She looked pissed off, bruised and bloody- and nothing like a girl that'd be scared to share a blanket with a near stranger.

Giving a sharp whistle, Daryl nodded when her eyes met his. He was going to tell her to get out of the way and then they'd take down the man she was fighting, but the signal seemed to set her off like it was a trigger and she a sleeper. Just waiting for the green light. She threw herself into the man rushing her, and her hands lifted like it was a dance, grabbing to thick shoulder and strong jaw, turning them sharply away from one another. Dropping the man with a loud, hard thump of dead man meeting floor. Siobhan took the knife from her felled opponent's hand and drove it up and into one of his eyes, to the hilt.

Lifting her head, she was bearing evidence of taking a beating, one eye swollen, her lower lip split. A blue-green stripe was rising over her left cheekbone and her clothing was torn. Daryl saw she walked with a hitch, but he couldn't drop everything and check her. Not how he wanted to.

There was still Maggie.

Fuck, there were two Walkers chained in the corner of the store, for Christsake. Daryl saw how Glenn was heading towards the Walkers and yelled out, "Wait. I think those two might tell us somethin." Despite Glenn's confused look, Daryl was already dragging his captive towards the straining zombies. "Look here, I think they know you. Maybe they can help you get to tellin us where Maggie is."

The man was digging his feet into the ground as hard as he could, struggling not to get closer to the monsters that wanted to eat him alive. He all but shrieked when Siobhan grabbed his wrist, jerking his hand forward to cut deep across his palm. The zombies growled and snuffed at the air, pawing for any chance to grab hold of him. The scent of fresh blood was adding to their need to feed.

Siobhan rubbed her borrowed knife to the side of the man's face. "You tell us now or those two leave to go looking…and you and I stay here…while I feed you to them a finger at a time…and then your face. As much as I can shave off before I go for your tongue. You choose."

That seemed to loosen the man's tongue. He told them how to use the back stairwell to access the security office, Tank's love nest of choice. After the man told them what they needed to know, Daryl killed him quietly with his knife, ensuring he'd be staying down for the count. They left the chained Walkers where they were for the moment, not having time to waste on them.

While they were making their way up the stairs, Daryl whisper-growled close to Siobhan's ear, "You an me are havin a serious sit down talk 'fore we go any-fuckin-where after this. "

She glanced back to him, having some trouble running but not about to say so. A sharp nod was her only reply. What else could she say? He'd seen her fight and then kill Clark. Daryl had some questions. She just wasn't sure how to give any answers. Lying sucked. Just made a mess that kept getting bigger and bigger. A swamp of betrayal could eventually drag you down and drown you. Good riddance. She hated lying to Daryl, to everyone- but she had made promises. She had people she had to take care of, and if it took sacrifice? She had to give what she could. If it was right, though, if it really was the better, greater good- then why did she feel so damned sick inside? She was almost relieved she didn't have time to think about it right now.

They entered the security office without much stealth, going instead for guns blazing. As a method, it was a good one when a man had his pants down. Maggie was on the floor, huddled to the wall, arms over her face, skin livid with bruises. When she saw Glenn, despite Tank being there, Maggie threw herself into Glenn's arms. She was clinging to him for dear life as Tank rose up, trying to get the blood to go to his brain and help him out. Too bad he didn't have much time to strategize. Siobhan moved towards him like she was going to make good on the promise she'd made him, but Daryl just put a bullet between the man's eyes. The loud shot made their ears ring in the small space, a sudden, final death knell.

Glenn was speaking to Maggie in low murmurs, kissing over her eyelids and tear-slick cheeks, holding her like he could make her body sink into his own. Protect her by carrying her inside of himself. Siobhan turned her back to them, giving them some privacy. She had noticed the dress Maggie was wearing. Tank made her dress for him. Cosmetics, jewelry and high heels littered the floor near the desk, showing other women had been forced to do the same.

The sharp ache in her side made her feel nauseous, telling Siobhan she might need to take a look at the spot where Clark had stabbed her earlier. Fighting a man was one thing, fighting and trying not to kill him but keep him interested in besting you? That was harder to do. Clark's ego made him draw out their fight, not letting his friend intercede. Now, the adrenaline and rage were simmering down, leaving the pain and fatigue in their wake. Siobhan headed for the door, drawn short when Daryl snagged her arm.

"Wherever you're goin, you're not goin alone. Not again."

Wearily, she nodded to him, stepping from the office, only taking a real breath once they were in the stair-well.

"I need to find a bathroom. Maybe some water…"

Daryl gave her a sharp look, seeing her stumble some on the steps. He grabbed her arm when she almost fell down, pressing her back to the wall to steady her.

"What the hell-"

Siobhan's eyes met his, seeming to glow in the scant light given off by Christmas lights messily fixed to the wall of the stairwell. "I just need some water. Clean it off." It was all she said before she was sliding down the wall.

Lifting his hand from her side, he saw his fingers were wet…and red.

**A/N I am so sorry, many times over- for posting the last chapter without any note whatsoever. I was running late and then finished the chapter, in my excitement I posted it before I wrote my Author's Note. Forgive me my lapse. That said, I shall get down to writing one for this chapter. I hope the gore and violence never come across as gratuitous or too much because it's all for a reason. Deviant me, I know I like such things, and Walking Dead is no stranger to getting down and dirty...so here's hoping you don't mind those darker twists and turns in the story. **

**orvokki, thank you for putting the story on your alerts!**

**eloquent dreams- Regarding Chapter 6, thank you so much. I like playing Daryl down the middle, letting him go off-road sometimes as we all do, but not losing that core personality. I see him as being new to things that mean something, emotions he might think he's undeserving of, as if he's not a vessel worthy of carrying those things he considers finer than himself. As for Ch 7, you gave me my first official WTF review and I LOVED it. Made me know I did something right. Thank you for loving awesome freakiness and for telling me so. This update took a little bit to get together but I hope you enjoy it. xoxo**

**Alec1116- Thank you for loving the Dixons! I have known some hell and leather people in my time, with that sort of feral intelligence that isn't always understood for what it is. I enjoy writing Merle because it pushes me to get into his head and be able to get back out again, all intact. Hope you like the update and thanks so very much for the review! xoxo**

**GraciellaRed74- So Merle and Tig walk into a bar... lol. That's a cross-over waiting to happen. Ending with way more people being dead but there'd be some blackly humorous moments in between. I must curtsy and say a very heart-felt thank you for the way you cheer on Catholic guilt. Most of my family is Catholic and my mama was a driver of the first guilt trip train ever built, I'd swear on it. Sister Sarah's using all she has in her arsenal to get Siobhan to see things her way, but life has a funny way of messing up the best laid plans. The handholding is a gateway drug, and I look forward to the next chapter when things ramp up some more in that area of interest. like pulling taffy to wait and not just let em at it. I have to do the Zen thing and be patient grasshopper- to myself. Also, I like having Merle around, much as he can stir things up, he's also the evil Jiminy Cricket popping around corners to give his two cents. Got to have those people around, for better or worse. Thanks so much and then some, ever a fan and friend, Jez. xoxo**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

As far as ducking out of a conversation went, she was doing pretty damned good at it. Bleeding, looking half out of it and going all watery at the knees. He was sure she wasn't faking it or anything, but he was not letting her off that easy neither. Daryl had some choice words to say to Siobhan as he half lifted her over his arm to get her to the bathroom. Cussing her out for being hurt made him feel a little better. Giving her a dark look, he was silently telling her she best not be dyin on his damned watch. That was just over his line of what he could deal with right now.

Inside the bathroom, Daryl looked around, taking stock of the room's amenities. Of course, the bathroom wasn't up to specs. No electricity or plumbing meant it was rustic at best. There were some gallons of water sitting along the wall since plumbing was long gone. The men that had been living in the mall had kept themselves good with bottled water. It would have to do. Fishing matches from his pocket, he lit up the hurricane lamp left on the long stone counter, giving the bleak room a strangely cheery glow.

"You're gonna have to help with this part or I'll drop your ass."

He knew she was still conscious by the way she laughed with a yelp at the end as he was pushing her up and onto the counter, her back to the glass mirror.

"I need to look at the cut. He get you good? I might need to sew it up."

Assuming she was agreeable to his statement, Daryl took his knife and cut the hem of her t-shirt, rolling the soaked red fabric away from her wound. He wasn't expecting her hand to come down and snag the torn ends of her shirt as she hissed at him like a swamp-cat.

"The fuck're you doin?" He asked, lifting a hand to shove to her shoulder when she thought she was sliding off the counter. Like she was fixin to square off with him for helping her. "Hold still."

"You can't take my clothes off."

"I have to look at this. I ain't coppin a feel."

Her mutinous look made him half-smile, but not in a friendly way.

"We tangle, you're losin, Chevy, bet you that."

Aside from the challenge of his words, her mind stuck to the nickname.

"Did…you just… call me a truck?"

Daryl lifted a gallon of the water, nodding as he twisted off the cap. "Sounds close enough to your weird name." When she started to reply, he yanked her t-shirt up. "Now hold fuckin still. I don't want to wrestle you down, but I will. Can't do much Jackie Chan shit if I smack your head to the bricks there. Even if'n it's for your own good, still gonna hurt more if I gotta fight you to help you."

His threat to knock her out just so he could give her first aid would have been funny if it didn't hurt so much to laugh. Siobhan turned her face to the cool surface of the mirror, eyes closing tight as he poured water gently over her wound. Biting the end of her tongue, she concentrated on taking in breaths without moving or worse- crying. It hurt like a bitch, even if he was being careful. She could tell he was trying to be gentle as he checked how deep the cut was.

"Can't hardly see, you need to lay down some. I have stuff in my bag. I can sew it up, but I don't know if you want to be awake for that. You want something to help you with the pain? "

The way he squinted his eyes at her, Siobhan wondered how many people he had sewn up before. Stitches hurt. Stitches without local anesthesia would make you curse and see stars. She knew how that felt, having avoided ERs as much as possible and letting friends- or fellow fighters- sew her wounds closed. Licking over the cut on her lower lip, she tasted copper. Blood would be a bad thing to have to worry about while getting back to the truck. Walkers would be all over her, after them all. She lifted a hand to take his hand for a moment, stilling his prodding fingers that were checking her ribs.

"I want to stay clean as I can. I don't want to take anything. I can't see making the walk back drugged up. I know it's going to hurt. It's okay. Just do it. We need to be quick. We have to get back."

Daryl gave her a speculative look before he put a handgun in her lap.

"I'm goin to get my pack. Stay right there. Don't move. "

He didn't tell her how to use the gun, or why she needed it- and Siobhan appreciated that. She never liked being told the obvious. Right now, the place could be holding some nasty secrets left from the men they'd killed. She didn't want to think about all the dark corners between the bathroom she was in and wherever Daryl had dropped his pack. It felt like a giant ticking clock was suspended over her head. Making her feel every second that slipped past. They didn't have time for any of this. Thinking of the kids and Sister Sarah, Siobhan looked to her shadowy reflection in the mirror.

"After this, you're getting up. You're walking back to the truck. You will keep up. You will get back to them. We don't have time to be hurt."

It helped her a little, her tone sounding adamant. Being injured was one thing. Having her 'family' elsewhere with near strangers looking after them was another. It wasn't that she didn't like or trust some of the other survivors. Siobhan just felt the welfare of Sister Sarah and the kids to be hers to personally insure. Her people to protect. She wouldn't expect anyone else to do things she expected of herself first and foremost. It was frustrating to wait.

The men they had encountered in the mall made her sick. She was pissed on a whole other level that these men had let themselves become worse than the monsters they kept as pets. Raping and hurting women. Hurting _Maggie_. Siobhan closed her eyes, allowing herself a moment's respite. She didn't want to look at herself as she remembered Maggie being assaulted. Siobhan hated that it had happened. She had been right there and couldn't do a damned thing to make it stop. Her nails dug into her palms as she thought about Maggie begging for Tank to stop touching her. God only knew what Tank had done to her. Hot tears built up behind Siobhan's closed lids, defiantly pushing past her lashes to scrawl down her cheeks.

"Hey….hey."

Daryl had come back without her hearing it and Siobhan looked at him, half angry for crying and a little ashamed. It was embarrassing. But he wasn't giving her a hard time for crying as much as he looked close to begging her to stop. He looked like he was the one in pain. He ran his rough palm across her cheek, smearing her tears with the dust from his hand.

"Sorry." He apologized, reminding her of a little kid that wasn't sure where to sit down or what they could touch without breaking something. Daryl put his bag on the floor, crouching beside it. "My hands got dirty on the way back. Had to hold something down and stomp it to death." He grimaced. "Right by the Victoria's Secret."

She laughed, sucking back her breath from the pain of laughing, but the mental picture of Daryl using his boot-heel to kill a Walker surrounded by lingerie was just too much. Siobhan leaned back more to the wall. "See any more?"

"Nah, but I told Glenn to keep an eye out. They're still upstairs. Not in the security office but in the accounting room. No windows there."

Daryl opened a bottle of rubbing alcohol, giving her a telling look. "Be easier for me to do this if you lose the shirt and coat. I ain't bein a perv or nothing. Just need to see better."

The way he turned red all the way up to the tips of his ears strangely reassured her. "That means those questions you have are going to add up." Siobhan's voice was scratchy, from nerves and thirst both.

"Why's that?" Like they had these kinds of talks all the time, he was laying out a pair of scissors, a needle, lighter and gauze. "You hidin a dick too?"

"If I had a dick it'd be too big to hide."

Their eyes met and he almost smiled before the humor was gone from his face.

"Shirt off. We're usin up time we ain't got here."

"Help me with my coat?"

Seeing she wasn't going to sucker punch him, Daryl helped her remove her coat, doing most of the work since twisting around wasn't good for her right now. He peeled off the long-sleeved sweater and flannel shirt she was wearing. They'd all layered up for the cold, and fortunately the clothes had slowed down the knife that went into her. Down to her t-shirt, he gave her an expectant look. Siobhan nodded, not fighting him as he used his knife to cut up the front of the thin cotton.

He tried like hell not to think of it as anything more than helping someone out. Taking care of a wound. But the sawing knife savaged the cotton, revealing her belly, all flat and smooth, inviting as a cold beer on a hot day. Her skin was beautiful, like coffee with cream. Wordlessly, he took the shirt in either hand and ripped up past the cut he'd made. Her shirt tore like paper, showing the white lace of her bra. His eyes would have rested happy on her breasts a lot longer, exceptin for her arms being tattooed like they were.

"Fuck me runnin."

His words were murmured in surprise.

Siobhan's cheeks lit up so fast and hot he imagined they'd be glowing in the damned dark.

Daryl bit back all the things he wanted to say. Biting her head off wouldn't work right now. He could at least give her a chance to explain herself.

"You're gonna talk while I sew. Start with how come you're inked up like a damned pirate."

Watching him thread the needle he'd be using, she swallowed down hard. The needle looked long and sharp, the tip glinting. She slid her eyes away from looking at his hands, smelling alcohol and fire as he sterilized the needle. Having rubbing alcohol poured over her cut made her want to scream, but she sweated out that impulse.

"Talk."

Someone's bedside manner sucked.

"I'm not a nun."

"No shit."

The first burning push of the needle into her flesh was horrible, rushing tears to her eyes like her body wanted to alert her that it wasn't having a good time.

"I said I was… after we ran into others. Still alive. It helped keep the men off. Made them back off, let us pass without as much trouble." Her voice was strained from not crying out, but it was evident in the way that she trembled how it hurt. "Sister Sarah said it was for the best. A lie that meant I'd be around to do God's work. Taking care of the kids. Helping her. It just seemed easier. I don't know. It wasn't like there was anyone to…"

His eyes lifted to hers, surprising her with his empathetic look. He felt bad for the pain she was in, not liking that he couldn't give her a damned thing for it if he wanted her ready to walk back to the truck. If they had to run, he wasn't sure what could happen. Best if she wasn't doped up though. She had that part right.

"Anyone to what?"

She looked down, watching his fingers pressing pink and red smeared gauze to her lower belly as he was sewing the knife wound closed in very precise, straight stitches. Lifting the gallon of water, she tipped the opening just over her lips, pouring some water down her parched throat. Gasping as he continued mending her, she whispered.

"Anyone to bother telling the truth for. It's not that I've done …fuck… that stings." She paused, a hand over her mouth until she trusted herself to talk. It helped to distract her. Some. "Not having sex wasn't a big deal. There wasn't anyone I wanted. Being a nun didn't seem like much of a leap for me. I wasn't about to suddenly be all holy or nice but… the rest seemed okay. I could work with it, you know? I just tried to watch my mouth. Keep my temper. I couldn't let anything happen to them." Seeing the faces of the people that counted on her, in her mind, Siobhan felt her heart hurt with worry. "I'm not holy but Sister Sarah is. The kids are. They're worth fighting for. They mean something."

"You waitin for me to agree with that?"

He tugged the needle up, drawing the thread tight and hearing how it made her whine deep in her throat. He wasn't hurting her on purpose, but there was no reason to fuck up and have to do this over or scarrin her. Daryl'd sewn up himself or Merle enough to know infection wasn't no joke. He'd do right by Siobhan, best he could. It wasn't ideal but it was better than being without anything clean to use. They had a place semi-safe to tuck into to lick their wounds before taking off. He was trying to see the silver lining here without voicing his own worries. One thing at a time. He kept his eyes on his work, glad her bleeding had slowed down.

"You sayin they're good and worth savin but aside from doin that you ain't worth much?"

"I never said that."

He didn't argue with her, but the words were there hanging in the air all the same.

"What'd you do before you was pretendin to be a virgin?"

The prickly tone matched his question, and he could tell she was achin to tell him to go to hell.

"I was a fighter."

"You mean like boxin or…?"

Siobhan lifted and dropped one shoulder. "Not that structured. No rules aside from killing. First one to hit the ground and stay down or tap out lost. Usually the weight class was considered but it wasn't always. Sometimes people wanted to see something with more drama. A woman fighting a big man? The people placing bets liked that. I didn't look like I could hold my own if all you saw was a girl."

He studied her, not so secretly, finishing up sewing up the cut.

"You kill anyone?"

"Not til dead people were doing it too."

He breathed a laugh, sliding a bundle of gauze over her stitches, taping it down.

"The fuck were you doin fightin for? You could've done somethin' else."

She bowed her head, and he thought that was the end of their talk but then she met his eyes again.

"Not for me. There wasn't anything else. I can't explain it, but … I needed it."

Daryl knew he wasn't straight with the Lord or anything, but he should feel bad for getting hard right now. It wasn't the time or place. He was doing good just to sew her up and not bust her ass for lying to him. That was more than squaring things off. He wished he didn't feel like he needed to touch her when she was upset. Or hurt. She wasn't his woman. She was no one's woman. She was a liar. A liar that could be taking off inside the week for all he knew. He was thinking all those rational things while reaching out to cup her face in his hands.

"Where'd he touch you?"

The question made her go tense and he brushed his open mouth across her brow, catching the scent of her shampoo.

"Tell me, he didn't just stick you with his knife. He touched you."

"Grabbing."

She whispered back, and it was more than he wanted to hear even when demanding answers. Daryl kissed her cut lip, so quick she almost missed it. He caressed over the slightly raised skin of her tattooed arms, seeing a burning woman the upper bicep of her left arm. The woman was ringed in flames, her pleading face tilted up, chains heavy around her wrists. On Siobhan's right bicep there were heavy black letters reading 'Illegitimum non carborundum' , situated over a phoenix.

"You like fire."

He traced down the wings of the phoenix, seeing how the orange and red ink gleamed over her skin.

She followed his fingers with her eyes, holding her breath and letting it go in a shaky rush.

He reached back, taking her flannel shirt. Helping her into it, he whispered, "What's the words mean?"

"'Illegitimum non carborundum' means 'don't let the bastards grind you down.'" She buttoned the front of her shirt, feeling like something had shifted between them again. She just didn't know what. "Daryl, please don't tell anyone what I told you. Any of it. We are moving on. There's no reason for it to-"

"I ain't tellin nobody nothin. Just don't act like things are somethin they're not. Do me that much."

She stared at him, feeling a cold lump in her stomach. Daryl balled up her bloody shirt, shoving it into the trashcan.

"I need to go talk to Maggie."

"We are goin up there to get her and Glenn both."

Siobhan carefully pulled on her jacket, feeling awkward past injury or pride.

"No, I mean, I need to talk to her by myself. Just us."

"Why?"

"It's a girl thing. A woman thing. It's what… it's the right thing to do. After what happened, I just need to talk to her, alright?"

Casting a look that said he thought that argument was weak, Daryl shrugged. "Go talk then, but we need to roll outta here sooner than later. You can speed it up, right? Do the shorter version or whatever?"

Her look was irritated as his when she moved past him out of the bathroom. He knew not to take that as a 'yes'.

Part 2

Glenn gave Siobhan a searching look, but he left the accounting office since Maggie agreed she needed to talk to Siobhan. His look seemed to ask were they friends and he'd just missed it? He was thoroughly weirded out when Maggie hugged Siobhan like they were long lost sisters or something.

Alone with Maggie, Siobhan sat with her atop a desk. Smiling photographs of children and a family neither of them knew were on one corner of the desk, and Siobhan understood when Maggie gently turned the frames down. It was hard to look at those faces that had been so dear to someone, and know the likelihood of their grim fate.

"He didn't get to do what he wanted."

The way Maggie whispered the confession had Siobhan taking her hand. They were worlds apart in many ways. Most likely would never have met if not for the dead coming to attack the living. But aside from where they grew up or what they had dreamed of someday being, they were both women- and right in the moment, that connection burned strong. Maggie squeezed Siobhan's hand, needing something to hold onto.

"He tried, but he wanted me to pretend we were on a date. I kept crying and begging him to stop. It was like I was ruining his dream or something. You all came before… before he could rape me."

She shuddered, tears coming from swollen eyes. Siobhan hugged Maggie close, whispering, "I am so sorry, Maggie. I wish I could take it all away."

"In a way, we can. I don't want anyone to know about it. About those men. My father can't know. Glenn promised not to tell. I know Daryl won't. Tell me you won't either."

"I won't. If you want my silence then you have it. I swear."

Maggie relaxed, brushing tears from her eyes. "Good. Okay. That's what I want." She looked over Siobhan, frowning in concern. "Are you okay? Were you hurt bad?"

"I'm alright. I think I'll be better once we get back to the house."

"Amen."

Part 3

It was all of three hours later before they reached the truck. Not for lack of trying, but the sky had darkened and icy rain fell sharp overhead. No one was saying it, but they were all wondering how far they were going to get before there was zero visibility or impassably slick roads. Siobhan gladly slid into the backseat, making room for Daryl. They had not exchanged a single word since leaving the bathroom together. As Glenn started up the truck, Siobhan pulled a one of the packs up to her side of the seat, leaning her head to it. She tried to take some of the strain off her wound, wincing at how much of a nuisance she was being in her attempts to get comfortable. Daryl didn't say a cross word about it and that was almost worse than derisive words or his whispers that had tempted her. It was as if he was trying to forget he had ever flirted with her or held her hand. She tried to tell herself she didn't care, but she did. It wasn't that easy. He had somehow worked his way into her defenses. She had only herself to blame.

"I think we can make it out of the city."

Glenn spoke from the shadowy front seat, not glancing back as he drove very carefully. He clutched the wheel so hard his knuckles were white. To have an accident nowadays carried much more risk than ever before. Aside from losing a vehicle you might not be able to replace- you couldn't call for help and there was a chance of the living dead finding you.

"How far can we get?" Leaning forward, Daryl peered through the windshield. There were no Walkers evident, but that didn't mean they weren't out there somewhere. "Remember that place we crashed in last month when we got the flat?"

Eyes flickering in remembrance, Glenn nodded. "Yeah, the brick house with the garage." He looked over to Daryl. "That could work if we have to stop."

Siobhan wanted to argue that they couldn't stop, but honestly, she was hurting so much she wanted to sleep. She had pushed herself hard to make it to the truck without slowing anyone else down. Her body had accepted her IOUs but now wanted to cash them in. She shivered as the rain came down harder around the truck, sounding like small knives hitting the glass and metal. She would have offered to help drive but if you couldn't sit up then chances were, you couldn't drive either. Weariness took hold of her and she slipped into sleep without much fight.

Part 4

He had too much on his mind to rest. Daryl watched Siobhan shivering in her sleep and wished he hadn't noticed. Reaching over to her, he pulled the blanket up around her. They were almost to the house they'd be staying at. It was a half-way point at best, but with the weather worsening, it was going to see them through the night.

Glenn pulled the truck over to the side of the road, leaving it running as Maggie slid behind the wheel. The men checked out the house and garage, finding the place to be clear. They made it inside as snow was starting to fall in crazy swirls from the night sky. Daryl would have carried Siobhan, almost did, but as soon as they'd parked the truck in the garage, she was awake and on her own two feet. Besides, who was he to carry her now, knowing what he did? She had been playing him for a fool since the first day they'd met. She was as good as gone outta his life already, so it wasn't going to matter. All this was just a bad memory waiting to happen.

Their night passed uneventfully, the cold keeping them all in one room. They shared the couch, using a gas heater to stay warm. The fumes from the gas were giving Daryl a headache, but it also helped him stay awake for watch. He was stirred from his thoughts when Siobhan moved to him in her sleep. Shrouded in her blanket, she curled against his side, making him too aware of her. He slid an arm around her, pulling her body tight to his. He could say it was to keep her warm, but naw. He wanted to feel her.

He was at cross purposes with himself since learning her secret. It gnawed at him. As mad as he should be, he felt a pull when Siobhan was around. Like maybe she was his and nothing else was coming through his brain. He could blame it on limited and lacking knowledge of women. Sex. He was the kid that was mortified to learn his dick was bigger than some other boys' were, even if Merle laughed it off with saying, 'Hell son, every girl dreams about gettin' a pony someday.' Helpful as that was, Daryl wasn't sure how to take all the rusty edged pieces of himself and smash the parts into something useful. Worthy.

Just the same as Siobhan saying all she was good for was keeping people alive. Not for herself. That had hit too close to home for him, so he'd called her on it. His eyes fell to where she was sleeping against him, and he couldn't help it. He gently shook her awake, watching her blink confusion from her sleepy hazel eyes. He whispered against her ear.

"I want you."

She glanced to where Maggie and Glenn were sleeping, and her mind was telling her, sneaking around with Daryl was not a good idea. But if ever there was a time to act on a bad idea- it was now. They'd have something like privacy. It only had to be the once, just to get it out of her system. Her doubts and fears started to boil over, so she did the only thing she could think to do. She decided to take a moment for herself. Something to tide her over for whatever came next.

"Alright."

He seemed as surprised as she was by the words, but he hid it better. Daryl stood silently, taking her hand to help her up, leading her behind him towards the stairs. There was a room up there, with a door and a bed. It'd more than serve. If it was cold, he'd make sure she never felt it.

A/N- sorry this took so long! Work was busily kicking my ass and I kept writing in fits and starts. Thanks so much to the readers that added the story to their alerts or favs. That warms me wee black heart.

Eloquent Dreams- thank you for the wickedly funny reviews you leave. It makes me feel like doing the Superstar move that Mary Catherine Gallagher made famous. I like some weird shit, this is true…I say this as I am redoing my bathroom into a zombie bathroom. It's going to be awesome. I hope you like this update and there'll be more soon… with some oh no she didn'ts and whaaaats?

Graciella – Destroyer of My Attention Span! I was all set to write a thoughtful or at least coherent author's note and I read the PM you sent. Now my brain is splashing images of bare muscly arms and growly words…with damn… yes please. I have no control now that the Dixon switch has been thrown in my mind. But with that going on, I'm set to read, review and catch up in B&B.

Gatorgirl99- Thanks so much for reading and reviewing. It means a lot to me and I really appreciate it. I am so pleased you like Siobhan, and I hope you like where the story goes, love, guts n glory.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

'_Do You Realize - that you have the most beautiful face  
Do You Realize - we're floating in space -  
Do You Realize - that happiness makes you cry  
Do You Realize - that everyone you know someday will die  
And instead of saying all of your goodbyes - let them know  
You realize that life goes fast  
It's hard to make the good things last  
You realize the sun doesn't go down  
It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round…'_

_Do You Realize, The Flaming Lips_

The trick was not thinking. Siobhan told herself that, every step up the stairs, making her too aware of Daryl right behind her. They were walking as if a few feet between them would mean losing each other forever or something. She didn't mind it. This might be the only time they could do this. She noticed him taking one of the fat pillar candles from the mantle over the cold fireplace. It made her too aware of what she'd be seeing soon. But she needed to know. She had to know what he would feel like. How he would touch her given a chance. Just to see where the fire inside of them was going to go. How hot it could burn. She reached back behind her, fingers closing around his belt buckle like she had to do it. He made a sound that was part appreciative and part surprised. He pressed her to the wall of the stairwell, his mouth slamming down over hers. She tasted whiskey, blood and want. Her cut lip throbbed at the harsh contact, but it only made the moment more real for her. Sex had never been an easy sweet thing she had experienced. If it hurt, it felt familiar.

She had to shove those thoughts well back. This wasn't some man going to force her, use her like a napkin or a porno mag. Just for getting off and fuck her if she liked it or not. This was a man, the first man, she wanted. That had to count for something.

His tongue slid across hers, and this time she was the one making a hungry sound.

"Bedroom."

He said it in a gruff whisper, and she wasn't sure if he was reminding her or himself. It didn't matter. She followed him into the dark room, glad when he closed and locked the door. They were alone. Siobhan met him at the door, not able to think all that clearly through the haze of lust. She sucked at his tongue, shivering when his hands were on her breasts. He cupped her breasts hard, as if he wanted to leave his hand-prints there, rasping the lace of her bra across her nipples, abrading the tender points into peaks. Siobhan whispered his name, feeling herself getting wet. Embarrassingly hot and wet.

"Just a sec."

Daryl put the candle down, lighting it, casting flickering shadows around the room. He glanced to the bed and then to her.

"I slept up here last time. Bed's pretty good."

His voice betrayed his touch of shyness, and she wasn't about to tease him about it. She didn't want to get called on her own inexperience. Maybe they weren't right for most people. They could be two wrongs making a right.

Moving over to him, she unbuttoned his shirt, her fingers so shaky it wasn't a quick task. Stripping him down to the waist, she saw the scars on his skin. Some were recently healed over, but they crossed over older, nearly white marks- and she knew he had been carrying them for a long time. She kissed over a roundish scar on his pectoral, knowing it was a puncture wound, nothing so clean as a knife.

"What did this?"

He shook his head, "Not goin there. Was a long time ago."

Like that settled things, he picked her up and carried her to the bed, boots and all. When her back hit the cold mattress, she shivered, drawing a smile from him.

"You going to do this with your boots on, cowboy?"

Her teasing tone was covering up how skittish she was. Seeing him taking her boots off before his own was escalating her nerves. He meant business here.

"Daryl?"

The tone of her voice made him pause in unsnapping her jeans.

"Yeah?"

"I haven't done this much."

"I was kinda hopin you weren't a professional."

She blushed, sitting up some to watch him working her jeans down her hips. Siobhan lifted her bottom, helping him undress her. She couldn't help noticing he wasn't as unclothed as she was. He looked over her in her panties, his eyes moving down her long legs.

"Prettiest legs I ever saw."

His hands stroked up her ankles, up her calves. He noticed she was ticklish just behind her knees, smiling a little before he kissed her there. When she made a squeaking sound, he laughed all low and warm, licking the hollow behind her knee like he had all night to torment her. Siobhan smothered a scream to a pillow she turned her face to, begging him with muffled pleas to stop.

She still wasn't quite ready for his fingers sliding up under her shirt. His touch was rougher than she had imagined, but then she saw the way his eyes were on her revealed bra. He looked transfixed, and she wasn't used to being looked at like that. She reached behind herself, unclipping her bra, letting him peel it away along with her t-shirt. She was silent as he ran his fingers over her breasts, under and between the full orbs, blunt nails scraping her eager nipples.

"Daryl…"

The whisper barely made it from her lips before he was bowing his head, sucking at the tip of one breast, and then taking as much of her nipple and breast into his mouth as he could. The hot, strong tugs of his mouth coiled her belly. She heard the sounds she was making as he took her other breast to taste, his mouth biting over her nipple and sucking the sting away. Siobhan thought he might die or pass out from the rush of sensations. It was so much all at once. And they'd only just started. Her fingers drove into his hair, pulling him closer. His eyes lifted to hers.

"You like that?"

"Yessss…"

"You taste good."

He licked the shallow valley between her aching breasts, his hands going down to her hips.

"Tell me if I hurt you… I can't hardly pay attention."

"I know…"

She whispered the words, because God, she could barely think straight herself. Her throat felt tight from excitement and nerves. The way he skimmed her panties off made her hold her breath.

"You're so wet. This for me?"

He ran his middle finger up her slit, catching her hot cream and stroking it over her sex-lips until she was gasping and moving like she had to follow his touch.

"This is…not…fair."

Siobhan sat up, seeing him move back as she was on her knees in front of him. Her need for fair play meant he was about to get naked too. Her fingers fumbled over his belt buckle, but she managed it, seeing how his belly went in. He was holding his breath. As tense as she was. She kissed his mouth softly, not letting him slide away into his mind. They both needed to be here and now for this. The leather of his belt sighed as it slid free of its metal buckle, clanking softly when she pushed it away to get to his fly.

She felt treacherously hot just from handling him like this. He wasn't telling her to stop. He was just so on edge, his fingers wet from her pussy when he grasped her hip. She let his zipper down nice and slow, not wanting to hurt him. Definitely buying herself a little bit of time to pretend she knew what she was doing. Pushing the denim away from his hips, she saw he wasn't wearing anything under his jeans. Skin, hot and hard all over. She met his narrowed eyes for a second before her hand was sliding around his hidden cock. She pulled him free of his jeans, and then blushed hotter at how he more than filled her hand. She had her fist wrapped around him and the head of his shaft wetly kissed her inner wrist. Her initial response was to say he couldn't be serious. This was not a cock for beginners or novices. Her joking words turned to ash when she saw how he looked like he was worried. He was just as vulnerable as she was. Siobhan decided to ease his fears by ignoring her own.

"All this for me?"

Hearing his own words said back to him, Daryl blushed, croaking, "Yeah."

His hand came down to cover hers, like a warning. She squeezed her grip around him until he made a sound that made her breath catch. Then they were kissing again, the twinge from her wound barely registering as his mouth ate at hers. He was over her, his body mantling hers, his shaft throbbing in her hand. His fingers worked at her clit, moving down to enter her, one and then two at a time until she was sure she was going to scream.

"I…can't… I'm …."

Whatever she was going to say was lost by his hand covering her mouth, pressing down. She came with his palm blocking the sounds of her pleasure. He watched her so intently, as if collecting his due from her. Siobhan gave it to him, letting him see how he affected her. No pretense. She was still shivering from her orgasm as he worked a condom on over his cock.

He slid his body back over hers, and damned if they both didn't look like they were about to shoot themselves in the foot but had to give it a whirl. Daryl put a palm flat to the bed before he lowered his hips to hers. His free hand went to her heated sex, fingers catching her cream to wet down his latex covered shaft.

"You ready?"

Siobhan answered him by lifting her legs around his hips, drawing him in closer. After that motion, their bodies just knew what to do. He slipped the head of his shaft into her, pushing his way past her tightness, staking claim deep inside of her. When it hurt, she moved to meet him, not wanting to stop just because her body was unused to this invasion. The glancing flashes of pleasure and pain mixed and then became solely need. They moved to one another, his thrusts jarring her and making her body respond by clasping around him like a vise.

"God-damn, Chevy… sweet fuckin' Jesus…"

His blasphemies would have made her smile if she wasn't so caught up in how good he felt within her. She didn't feel empty. His body was pinning hers, his cock buried inside of her – and she was holding him in the most intimate way possible. Connected.

He moved harder and deeper into her, his breath ragged to her neck as he finally went taut all over. He slammed into her, holding his place as he got off.

She kissed his sweat damp brow, her own breath coming in gasps. He had made her see stars before he was ever fucking her. Worry flickered to life inside of her. How was she supposed to act like this had never happened and didn't matter?

Part Two

She was sleeping, naked as a jay next to him. Daryl still had his jeans on. He'd been too busy earlier to take em all the way off, and now he was sure they'd have to get up soon. Least for the sake of appearances, he shouldn't be strutting around naked. Come to think of it, he'd dress and go out the window and down the side. He could say he went out to piss.

His eyes went over Siobhan, noticing how sweet and young she looked asleep. Like nothing was wrong in her world. He ran his fingers down her spine, her tight ass was to his groin. He moved her curly hair aside, kissing at her nape until she murmured in her sleep, winding her body to his as if they'd woke up this way a million times. The truth of the matter was so far off. He noticed the black rose tattoo on the back of her shoulder, seeing how the ridges of ink rose up under her skin. Touching the flower, Daryl leaned in, getting a better look at it. The way some of the lines were a little thicker than others.

"It was a bite."

Siobhan whispered the words.

He hadn't known she was awake. He pulled her gently closer to him.

"Who bit you?"

"A bad man."

"He dead?"

"Ryker's got him. He was put away a few years ago, got into it with a fellow inmate and died in the yard."

She rested her face to the inner curve of her arm, still not looking at him. It felt like he was reading her diary, not that she'd ever kept one. She couldn't imagine what he was thinking. When he kissed the rose at its center, a tremor ran down through her body.

"What about the burning lady? I was lookin at her earlier. It's religious, right?"

Rolling over to face him, Siobhan took the sheet with her. Sitting up in bed she felt a little less anxious. She was a little shier in the first morning light.

"Anima Sola. She's chained, but the chains are not what's binding her in place. They aren't attached to anything but her…but she doesn't know that." Her eyes dropped to the tattoo in question, seeing the woman's ethereal face. "She means different things to different people. To me, she means that nothing, no matter how bad it is…is forever. There's nothing we can't escape, one way or another. Even if we're hurt or we think we might break, we can get back up. As long as I can get back up I never lose. It's not over."

He listened quietly, not interrupting. All of her tattoos had something to do with pain or fire. The rose would be the pretty tattoo, except it was hiding where some bastard had dug his teeth into her skin. Daryl felt some moments didn't call for words. There was nothing he could throw into the air between them that'd make it better, so he was silent as he dressed.

His eyes travelled over her and he spoke in a tone she hadn't expected. Terse, clipped from worry. "Don't you never tell Merle what you told me. He won't be good with bein lied to, never mind the reason. He doesn't trust people. You and the sister, well, he thinks you're the real thing. I don't know how he'd do with the truth."

She nodded, hearing the genuine warning in his tone.

"I won't tell him. We can be careful. No one has to know this happened."

"I know and you know. I ain't forgettin any time soon."

Something in his eyes felt like too much to look at head-on. Getting up, wrapped in the sheet, Siobhan walked over to look out the window. It was white outside. Strangely pretty. Snow blinded, making the world look glittery, whole and sweet.

"That's going to be fun to drive through."

Daryl half-smiled. "Yeah, I've driven in snow all of never."

"I can drive. I've been on snow before."

"Your belly…"

"If it survived last night, it can take me driving."

Seeing him blush, she laughed. Daryl just gave her a look before he was opening the window.

"What are you doing?"

"Coverin for your ass." He bopped a quick kiss to her cheek. "Keepin your reputation all nice and shiny."

He was out the window before she could say a word, leaving her with a slightly dazed expression.

Part Three

If Glenn and Maggie thought there was anything weird about Daryl walking in the back door with a beer and a cigarette, they didn't let on. Siobhan was getting the impression that Glenn noticed more than he said but kept it to himself, and Maggie? She was not on her guard or keeping track of anyone else's business. If Maggie thought anything was suspect, she had too much on her own plate to worry about it. Siobhan's offer to drive was accepted by all the native Georgians that didn't like the looks of the snow.

She was happy to do the driving, since it would give her something to do besides thinking about how Daryl had stayed beside her all night. If he had gotten out of bed and wandered off right after they'd had sex, it would have been like a door slamming. An end. Some closure that could be dealt with. He had held her while she slept. She didn't think he'd slept much himself, because they weren't on the road for an hour before he was sleeping in the passenger side, his head to the window. He was so bundled up she couldn't see his face except for his closed eyes. It was kinda cute how cold the cold was when you were used to being fried by the Georgian sun.

The drive took longer than usual, but not longer than expected. There were no road crews throwing down sand or salt. The four by four truck was a blessing, but still, Siobhan had to be careful for icy patches or large objects hidden by the blanket of snow. She was glad they'd left so early because if it had been dark out, she'd be moving the truck at a crawl and stopping often to investigate the road ahead. The snow created illusions, and she didn't like the idea of falling through where road used to be, into snow and other wrecked vehicles. A certain tension bled out of her shoulders once she was on the road leading back towards the house.

"Thank God." Breathed Glenn behind her. Siobhan gave him a look of agreement via the rearview mirror.

Pulling into the long drive of the house, Siobhan wanted to be inside already. She had missed Sister Sarah, the kids. Her dog. She wanted to be sure Diablo was keeping warm in this cold. He was so grumpy he could be overlooked by people. The thought had her glancing at Daryl before she laughed a little and parked the truck.

Surprisingly, it was Merle and Shane that came out to welcome them. Daryl was awake enough to get out of the cab, pulling supplies out with him. Siobhan saw a look pass between the Dixon brothers before Merle nodded her way.

"It's good you're back. Andrea's been on a tear waitin for y'all. I hope you got batteries."

Siobhan handed a pack to Merle, things he'd asked for. "Batteries?"

"For her Black and Decker Pussy Wrecker. She needs it bad."

Shocked into laughter, Siobhan shook her head, taking out more bags. "Good to see you too, Merle."

Shane took a few of the packs from the backseat, "Y'all clean out the whole mall?"

"We decided that since we were takin so long, might as well load up like pack ponies." Daryl said, and then he nodded to some of the others standing in the doorway of the house. Something about their expressions made him uneasy. "What's goin on? Someone find out Santa's dead or somethin?"

An unusual look was on Merle's face. He grabbed Siobhan's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Sister Sarah's taken sick. Fever and all."

He had more to say, but Siobhan was already bolting for the door, running into the house and up the stairs like the devil was chasing her.

**A/N Hola! Better and faster update! Cliffhangers are a necessary evil, and they shall be given and then hopefully attended to in due time. I blame Graciella. She writes this story I have to read and then asks me questions that turn my brain into a bowl of porn pudding. Tasty but not easily forced to work correctly. Ah but, I hope you all like this chapter and the one to follow will be along shortly. A few things… **

**Thanks for putting the story on your alerts and favs. It makes me so happy and touched. lynn2008, qlara, AnimeOtakuBara, and AlmostAnne, thank you all very much indeed.**

**Penelope Bacon, oooh I love your icon, Sylvia Ji? Oh and thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I know how busy things can get. I was so pleased to hear from you and I hope you enjoy this chapter… hisses and kisses to you xoxo**

**Amaya Dixon, sorrrrry for leaving you hanging there, bebe…hope this makes up for it…. I promise the next chapter'll be along shortly and thank you for reading and reviewing. It makes my heart smile.**

**Graciella Red- peaches and cream, and all things lovely to you, sweetheart. Your reviews and letters cheer me up like sunshine on a fat cat. Also, I am addicted to your story, so there's that, but it's a teensy piece of how grand you are altogether. You've got some magic. I hope you like this chapter, all smexin and sexing…but with some drama too because writers are cruel, cruel mistresses. And if I didn't say so before, I say it now, I love your Merle and your Daryl are toe curling good and make no mistake. I love em and you do them proud. Xoxo Loves.**


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